


The Nordics and I

by Mama May-Eye (Mama_May_Eye)



Series: Nordics and I [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Adopted, Belonging, Brothers, Cousins, Family, Family Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Feels, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nordics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 16:37:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 37,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5463587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mama_May_Eye/pseuds/Mama%20May-Eye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If I'm not part of the Nordics, where do I belong?" Sealand is tired of not being included in his adopted family's affairs. When his emotions explode, will he see how much the Nordics care for him or will he continue to isolate himself from them? Mama and Papa do not approve. No slash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cruel Realizations

Sealand – Peter Kirkland, adopted son of Papa Berwald Oxenstierna and Mama Tino Väinämöinen, brother of Jerk Arthur, and greatest country in the _world_ – was not feeling so great now. In fact, he felt worse than that time he had a stomachache from eating too much candy. Worse than the time he gave Hanatamago chocolate and didn't know it made dogs sick. Worse than the time he tried a bottle of alcohol from Jerk's secret stash of scotch that happened to be left on the table. Actually, that one was kinda fun...afterwards, anyway, when Papa Berwald kept giving Jerk Arthur the "Swedish Glare", as Denmark names it.

No, this was worse than all those times put together.

Because this time he just realized something that he wished he never did.

The family – _his_ family – he…he didn't belong with any of them. He didn't belong in the Nordic family.

He didn't fit in with any of them and just _thinking_ about it again hurt. It made him want to scream and bury his face in his arms. It also made him want to run as far away from all of them as he could and maybe that would make them go out looking for him so that he could feel like they cared. He didn't know which one he really wanted to do so he continued to sit at his upstairs window in his room and stare outside morosely.

How did this happen again? Oh, yes. The comments.

At first, it was a bunch of little things. Comments. Little comments mentioned by other countries outside the World Meetings he often tried to sneak into. "The Nordics". They didn't mean any harm, but once it had been said enough times, Sealand had a thought:

_Why doesn't anyone call me a Nordic?_

At first, he supposed it had to do with region. Because he wasn't geologically near them, maybe? Still, after that thought, he couldn't help but note how many times the title of his family came up in conversation. A title that didn't pertain to him because he wasn't part of any of those conversations nor was he mentioned beforehand.

" _The Nordics are almost impossible to get along with during a meeting!_ "

" _Did you see how the Nordics looked today? I guess they're tired from the government crisis, too._ "

" _Finland really stuck up for the Nordics this time – I was surprised!_ "

" _If I see another Nordic, I'll scream! Oh, excuse me, um, Sea…world, was it? Don't stand in the hallway like that._ "

That last one was particularly frustrating and he wanted to yell his name at the ignorant country, to correct everyone that he was _Sealand_ and a _country_ and that maybe _he_ was a Nordic, too, because his Papa and Mama were and he was part of their family now! But at that moment, he couldn't even bring himself to utter a single word. He just…felt…so left out. He wound up standing in the hallway like that, thinking, until his family exited from the meeting. That was when he had "The Thought". That was three months ago.

Sealand sighed for what felt like the tenth time since he started sitting at his window. What was he going to do? What was he? If he wasn't a Nordic, what was he? A Kirkland? The Jerk didn't even put up a fight to get him back from Papa Berwald once Sealand auctioned himself off. (He tried not to think about the part where Sweden was the only one who even bothered to place a bid in the first place – even with that Russia-guy's weird obsession with owning everyone.)

Which brought him right back to the question, " _Where did Sealand belong in the world?_ " Wy had Australia, and Seborga had the Italian brothers. None of them had to be auctioned off like he did.

Sealand felt like hitting himself in the head. He was getting nowhere with his thoughts. He didn't have any answers for himself. Weren't you supposed to go to your parents when you're confused about something? He didn't think he could tell his parents about this. What if it was true and they just didn't tell him he wasn't a part of the family to spare his feelings? Mama Tino does like to avoid hurting feelings. What if they don't think he's being grateful enough and send him back to the Jerk? They wouldn't do that would they? They…they love him.

… _Right?_

Of course! They tell him practically every day! But somehow…that thought didn't uplift him as much as he thought it would now that he had more things to think over.

A sound from downstairs caught his attention and he paused in his thoughts to listen to what it might be. He could hear the deep baritones of his father's voice and the answering, soft tones of his mother figure. Oh. His papa must have just gotten home from the convenience store. Dinner would be ready soon.

A family dinner. Family. They had pictures of the three of them all over the house. You didn't fill your home with pictures of someone you hate. That would be plain stupid.

Sealand glanced up at the clear, yet darkening sky with a lighter heart. Yes, you filled your home with pictures of people you liked. That's all there was to it. Why else have pictures, then? He pushed away from the window sill and started down the stairs at a swift pace, overcome with a sudden need to see his parents or Hana or _someone_! He reached the edge of the kitchen right as his Papa Berwald was walking out of it and he nearly barreled into him, burying his face into his Papa's stomach as he wrapped his arms around his middle and ignored the grunt that escaped because of this action. Mama was all about affection, too, but sometimes it was best to get a hug from Papa because he was so big and strong it felt like he was a giant bear who could beat all the superheroes in the world put _together_! He felt a hand come down on his head.

"Pet'r. Y' fine?"

"Uh-huh! I…um…just wanted to see you is all! Haha…ha!" Peter swallowed as he realized he sounded a bit nervous. Nervous? Why in the heck was he nervous? Weird. He did like it when his papa rubbed his hair like that, though, and he started to feel better again without realizing it.

"Peter?" his mama's voice drifted out of the kitchen. "You've been in your room for a while now. Want to come help me make tonight's dinner?"

"Um…sure! Okay!" He made his way into the kitchen and set about opening cans of food for dinner per Mama Tino's request. While Sweden was in his bedroom changing into some more comfortable clothes, it became silent in the kitchen save for the sounds of the two of them getting dinner ready for the night. Peter, left alone with his thoughts, started getting into that state of nervousness again when his mama's voice distracted him.

"So, Peter. Are you excited about tomorrow?"

Sealand stopped what he was doing. Tomorrow? What was tomorrow? Was something happening? The World Meeting wouldn't be for another three months, right? Or did he sneak a peek at the wrong calendar? Oh. Bloody. Baroness. What if he was left behind on purpose because he wasn't good at keeping track of dates! What would that say about his country!

"…eter?"

People would never take him seriously! They would say he's forgetful like the Italian countries. Or that he's lazy like that Greek one. The one with the cats. Come to think of it, he likes cats. Hana's better, but he'd like to have a cat someday as well. Just to see if he could build an army with them, too. Maybe he could do it with dogs instead. Was someone calling him?

"Peter!"

"Huh? What?"

Finland let out a relieved sigh. "What were you thinking about so hard? I asked you a question but you never answered." He peered at Sealand with his brows drawn together in a worried expression. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, of course. I mean…I'm a country! Of course I'm fine! Haha!"

Finland smiled a bit. "Good. I asked you before if you were excited to go see the family tomorrow. Do you not want to go?"

The family? Oh! The trip to Norway's. He'd forgotten about that, what with the new revelation he'd had to deal with lately. The one about not belonging. He wondered if the other's thought this, too. What if they had meetings or talked over the phone about how he had yet to realize that he wasn't welcome anymore? No, he couldn't imagine any of his family members talking like that. Especially his parents and Denmark. Denmark was his pal and pals always stick together. Even if their pal's family didn't want them anymore. This was, like, pal rule number one! Still…Denmark did hang around Norway a lot. And did whatever Norway said a lot. Maybe he would…no. He-He was getting himself worked up again over _nothing_. _Again_. Realizing that he still had not answered, he forced down the nervous, sick feeling threatening to crawl up his throat and answered in what he guessed was a normal voice.

"Y-Yeah! I can't wait." He tried to think of something more positive to keep the conversation going and not dwell on any feeling of alienation in the coming future. "Um…" Oh! "Denmark said he would try to find an elk for me and we could ride it through the woods," he blurted.

Finland had been taste testing the soup for that night at that moment, and upon hearing this, sucked it down his throat violently. After that bout of coughing finally subsided (with an appearance by Sweden to make sure everything was alright), he turned back to Sealand with a grimacing sort of smile.

"Denmark told you what now?"

Sealand, feeling relieved that he could focus on a more fun conversation instead of all these uncomfortable thoughts in his head, gave a smile. "Yeah, he said we'd go into the forest outside of Norway's house and find an elk and ride it! He said he could do it with one hand tied behind his –"

"No."

Sealand blinked at this sudden denial, feeling his soaring feelings start to take a nosedive. He turned to his papa.

"N-No?"

A nod. "No."

"But…" No? _No_? What did he mean by that? He couldn't go play with Denmark? "But, Denmark-!"

Sweden's face took on a slightly darker quality. "Too dang'rous. Get ya' killed. Answ'r's no."

Sealand could feel his face start to heat up with emotions as he stared at his papa who had that unmovable look on his face. He didn't get to hang out with Denmark as much as he would've liked in the first place. He didn't know if they could ride an elk or not but as long as he could spend time with his buddy, it didn't really matter, did it? Now his father was telling him he couldn't go? Why! It's not like Sealand himself was going to wrestle a wild animal – give him more credit than that – the only one that would get hurt is the Dane, and, given his daily beatings courtesy of Norway, Sealand thought Denmark could handle his own against a little deer. He would probably just watch at the most and it's better than always being stuck in the house during these visits. Just as Sealand opened his mouth to argue, no not argue, to bring up these important points to his unfair papa, his mama interrupted.

"Sealand, elks are dangerous creatures. They travel in herds and I – we – wouldn't want you to get hurt doing something that will probably send Denmark to the hospital in the least if he tries it." His Mama Tino gave him an apologetic but unwavering smile. "We want you to have fun, but be safe, too. There are…er…less dangerous things to do there."

Sealand, who had sulked over to the dining table while Finland was talking, now slumped in his chair. The feelings of unfairness at this outcome brought the _other_ thoughts to the forefront of his mind. Because of this, he couldn't stop the voice in his head that said they didn't want him to have fun because that would make him want to stay with them longer.


	2. Arriving in Purgatory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have used either official or fan-made human names of the countries while writing so far. As far as fan-made names, I've picked to use the more common ones that appear. Enjoy and leave feedback!

Sealand woke up to the cheerful Saturday morning light shining right on his face. Well, it more blinded him horribly than anything, but it did its job in waking him up at least. He stretched, his irritable mood decreasing with every second. Today they were going to drive up to Norway's house where all the Nord- where the family would meet.

Sealand grimaced as thoughts from yesterday returned with full force. Darn it. He was in such a good mood before, too. Stupid thoughts. Trying to force these thoughts back, he climbed out of bed and began to get ready for the day, having packed his bags yesterday afternoon. This trip…it was supposed to be fun. No, it _was_ going to be fun. Sealand would _make_ it fun. Nothing would ruin his time with Denmark or the others. He just had to stop these swirling, stupid thoughts from bringing him down. Because that's all they were – thoughts. Not facts. Just thoughts. His family still loved him or else they wouldn't be bringing him along. Common sense.

Duh.

His smile a bit more wobbly than his normally cheerful smile, Sealand scooped up his bag of packed clothes and bounced down the stairs with slightly forced enthusiasm. He peeked into the kitchen to see Sweden making something near the kitchen sink.

"Papa?"

Sweden turned his head, waiting.

Sealand walked into the kitchen more. "What're you making? Breakfast?"

Sweden nodded. "No time t' fix anyth'ng big." He held up a covered paper plate of a small stack of sandwiches containing smoked salmon and cream cheese. "For on-th'-road," he replied placing the plate down.

Sealand opened his mouth to ask if he could have one now, but was cut off by Finland's arrival.

"Peter," he approached smiling, "do you have everything?"

"Er…yes, Mama Tino."

"Toothbrush? Clothes?" His smile widened. "Underwear?"

"Ah! Mama!" he protested with a small blush as Finland chuckled at his embarrassment. Underwear is not to be discussed with any _body_. It's personal and off-limits in any conversation. Supposed to be, anyway.

Sealand scowled as Finland lightly apologized and told him to head to the car outside. It was time to go. Sealand crawled into the seat after placing his bag down in the trunk, removed his handheld game console from his pocket and one of his games, and proceeded to get lost in the world of magic and swordsmanship. He ignored the sounds of his parents loading up the car and getting in themselves. Well, until a small white puppy decided he'd done enough playing.

"Hana, no! Down, girl – you can't play," he half yelled raising his game higher into the air where the exuberant Hanatamago would not reach it. "You're gonna make me die!"

Sweden's lips twitched and Finland chuckled at the struggle in the backseat. Then Sweden backed the car out of the driveway and they were off.

Hours later found Sealand listlessly petting a resting Hanatamago in his lap. He always got like this during long car rides. When he was bored with his video games and had taken at least two naps, there was nothing he wanted to do but _leave the car_. Seriously. He wanted to _leave_. Right now. He was so bored. Was it possible to die from being bored? He'd prove it true in just a few minutes. His Mama Tino was content to look out of the window at the scenery for hours, occasionally striking up a small conversation and his Papa Berwald never seemed to mind the boringness of nature or driving. They had arrived in Norway's country not long ago but already what little was left of Sealand's enthusiasm was fading fast.

Just when Sealand was starting to decide whether to let out a long suffering sigh or a loud agonized groan, Sweden turned the car up the lush driveway of Norway's house. Upon recognizing where they were, Sealand immediately straightened up from his slouched position and put his face to the window to see ahead better while Sweden informed them that they had arrived. Finland had fallen asleep half an hour ago and he looked so comfortable no one wanted to wake him just yet.

Sealand leaned from the window to look out at Norway's expansive land. The trees leaning over the driveway always seemed to be a healthy green no matter what time of the year it was. There always seemed to be unique wildlife here that he never got to see when he visited his jerk-brother England. Sealand liked this home of Norway's better because it had a wide forest surrounding it and it was less crowded with people from the city. Though countries tended to conduct official business at their capitals and usually had a home set up in their capital as well, some, if not most, also had a place to themselves elsewhere in their country. This way, countries could relax without having to worry about representatives and bosses always knocking on the door for work. This particular home was outside of Trondheim (Norway claimed it reminded him of his Viking days, but Sealand figured everything in Norway would remind him of those days, but whatever.) instead of Oslo. And Sealand loved it. But not as much as he loved his own country. His country had the best…um…sunsets around! Yeah. That's why people should visit him more. And he had the best sport – fishing! Good, quality fishing.

Sealand was thrown out of his thoughts as his forehead bumped into the window when the car hit a dried-up puddle before Sweden parked it off to the side of two cars already in front of the house. Sealand (gently) pushed Hanatamago off his lap as he excitedly fought with the seatbelt buckle to unlatch himself. They were here! Finally! Was Denmark already here or would they have to wait for him to come? He didn't recognize the two cars already there. Did one of them belong to the Dane?

As Sealand finally released himself and stepped out of the car along with Sweden, the front door to Norway's house opened and a tall blonde male with shining dark blue eyes and a cocky grin stepped out onto the porch. With a confident pose, he called out to them.

" _Hej_ , Sve, sure took your ass a long time to get here!" He paused to laugh at the disgruntled look on Sweden's face. "What – you actually drive at the speed limits? Lame."

Sealand could hardly keep his excitement contained as he bounded towards the porch.

"Mathias!"

"Sea!"

Denmark met him halfway down the stairs in a manly-man bear hug. It wasn't cute, so Mama Finland (who had woken up) didn't have to laugh like that. It wasn't _cute_.

"Sea, buddy, haven't seen you in awhile! How have you been? Still a "great country" and all that?" he asked in a teasing smile.

Sealand usually ignored the teasing. Denmark was like that, after all. Still, he couldn't help but defend his country, and he started to feel his face get hot with defiance. "Of course, I'm still a country! A _great_ country! Countries are gonna rue the day when they started to look down on the great Sealand! I'm gonna be bigger than-!"

"Alright, alright! I'm sorry!" Denmark chuckled as he ruffled Sealand's hair. "Just kidding, _lille_ _sø_."

Sealand fought to calm himself down since inside he knew Denmark didn't mean any harm. His emotions were still a little raw from the _thoughts_ and he didn't mean to snap. Even if his country was a very big deal, especially to him. He opened his mouth to tell Denmark he was forgiven, but the Dane cut him off.

"You gotta learn not to take things so seriously. I mean, you don't want to grow up to be like your old man, do – Ah!"

"Help them with their bags, idiot," a stern voice with a Norwegian accent cut in as a black boot sent a swift kick to the Dane's side.

Denmark waved off the attack. "C'mon, Luke, can't a guy chat with his little buddy for a second?" He faced Norway with a grin. "You jealous? There's enough of me to go arou-OUND!"

Sealand had never seen anyone kicked down the stairs that fast before.

"Peter. How are you?"

Sealand turned his gaze from a sprawled Denmark to see the blue piercing eyes of Norway studying him.

"Uh…I'm fine…Lukas."

He didn't know Norway or Norway's brother Iceland as well as he did Denmark. Denmark hung out with the adults, yeah, but he also set time aside to play video games with Sealand or help him with pranks that he could play on Arthur whenever Sealand visited him. Norway and Iceland, however, never seemed to be happy whenever he was around so Sealand tended to avoid them because of the uncomfortable atmosphere he felt. Both Finland and Denmark had remarked on different times that Norway viewed Sealand fondly, he just wasn't very expressive about it. They also told him that Iceland was much the same, he just had to look past his seemingly antisocial exterior. Sealand wasn't too sure about these accounts and felt that the brothers became more uncomfortable for him to be around each time they visited. Coupled with his recent outlook on his family, Sealand wasn't sure if he should be surprised or not about the fact that he now felt like Norway was almost a complete stranger to him. He felt the compulsion to call him "mister" or "sir", but he wasn't sure if that would be appreciated. After all, family was supposed to be on a first-name basis.

Oblivious to these thoughts, Norway nodded his head at the answer. "That's good. There's food inside if you're hungry."

"O-Oh. Thanks, um, Lukas." Sealand tried to ignore the voice that said he was practically running away from Norway as he walked into the house past him with his eyes firmly fixed ahead.


	3. Blurry Perspective

Sealand walked into Norway's house with a sense of relief. He was beginning to become overwhelmed when he was with Norway. It was like whatever was squeezing his heart before had loosened when he entered to the smell of Norway's house. It always seemed to have a minty, fresh smell – something that made it smell like purity or something, but Sealand couldn't guess what made it smell like that and, when he had struck up the courage to ask, Norway had replied that he didn't smell anything.

Sealand casually entered the kitchen, looking for whatever Norway had meant when he mentioned food before. Motion caught his eye and he turned to his left to see what it was only to realize it was Iceland sitting at the kitchen table. Iceland didn't seem to notice his presence yet as he continued to chew on the bowl of licorice in front of him, no doubt bought by Norway just for Iceland's presence. Iceland's pet, Mr. Puffin, who always accompanied him didn't seem to be anywhere nearby.

Sealand debated briefly to either greet Iceland or continue on his way. Apprehension winning over, Sealand turned around only to get a face full of bird feathers. A yell escaped him as he stumbled back flailing his arms to ward of any attacks but his arms only met air.

"S'cuse you, kid. Don't stand in the doorway like that!"

Sealand opened his clenched eyes and, perplexed, he turned back towards the table where an Icelandic puffin was now sitting, eating a fish in one gulp. Sealand relaxed. Mr. Puffin seemed to be back from wherever he had gone – it looked like he had been fishing. Sealand hadn't had much socializing with Mr. Puffin but he always thought the bird was wicked cool. Especially since he could talk! America told him once that his brother…the one above him…had a bear that talked, too, but Sealand could never seem to find the wayward country to ask if this was true.

Sealand cut his eyes to Iceland who now had his attention focused on Sealand. Sealand's heart gave a start, though he tried not to outwardly show his nervousness. While Norway at least seemed willing to make an effort to talk to him, Iceland almost seemed to actively avoid him, so Sealand did the same, not wanting to experience the cutting words he often heard Iceland say whenever he was around the other countries, though he might deserve it. When they had first met each other, Sealand hadn't treated Iceland well, informing Iceland that he would have to do whatever he said and with respect. Jeez, it was almost embarrassing to think about. It seemed so long ago now. Still, no country likes being talked down to and that was exactly what Sealand did the second he saw Iceland. He had gotten a little carried away in his excitement. He had hoped that having a fellow e-Bay-selling buddy would make him feel better, less lonely and pathetic. Instead, Iceland became more grown-up and stronger than two of Sealand put together. He also entered the Nordic family first and got to be included in whatever they did. Sealand was too little too late for that, he supposed with an increasing frown.

Iceland broke the staring contest with the uncomfortable Sealand to give Mr. Puffin a disgruntled look – for the water that had dripped off the bird had now dampened his coat sleeve.

Sealand mentally slapped himself from his thoughts – _again_ – and struggled to find words to fill in the silence from a greeting that never came.

"U-Um. Hello, Ice- Emil." He forced his smile on his face and gave a little wave. "How are you today? You seem fine. Eating licorice? That's nice."

Iceland stared at him with a frown. " _Já_ , it is."

Another silence descended upon the kitchen as Sealand waited for more conversation to follow but Iceland seemed to be done for his part of the socializing, going back to eating licorice but occasionally glancing in Sealand's direction with a confused and slightly impatient face. As he heard the others finally making their way inside, Sealand decided he wasn't that hungry anymore and, with a disappointed feeling weighing down his heart, stepped out of the kitchen.

Why would he feel disappointed about that talk…or lack of one? He and Iceland never had anything to talk about anyways. They had a tendency to avoid each other, after all, so what made this conversation failure…hurt? Sealand stopped beside the couch in the living room as he watched the Nordics argue amongst themselves while attempting to make it through the living room with bags and suitcases and up the stairs to the guest rooms. The twinge of sadness inside Sealand answered the question for him. It was because he wanted to be accepted by someone. He wanted to be accepted as a country by the others, yes, but this type of acceptance – he was starting to find – he wanted more. He wanted to be accepted as a member of the Nordics. Of this elite family of countries that had everyone's attention. He wanted that. He wanted to be a part of it, too. He had tried to hold off the feeling of abandonment and isolation as much as he could, but that encounter with Iceland brought his feelings to the surface and Sealand could no longer push them down. He felt like he was being rushed from all directions by varying degrees of hot and cold and he couldn't tell if he was breathing fast or not.

He just wanted what they had. What everyone else had. He wanted the recognition that TRNC got from his brother Turkey. He wanted the support that Wy got from Australia. He wanted the acceptance that Iceland got from his family. From Sealand's family. He…just…wanted….

A sound from the stairs caught his attention and he looked up to see the family descending from the second floor, laughing at Denmark's expense, though Denmark was laughing also. Sealand watched with misty eyes as they all headed into the kitchen and he swerved his head back to look at the far wall where his line of sight had been since he came in here.

"Peter?"

Sealand jumped as a hand clamped down on his shoulder out of nowhere. He twitched his head to look at who it was. Mama Finland. He thought they were in the kitchen having fun with _their_ family. Finland's worried frown halted the thoughts quickly turning bitter in his mind.

"What's wrong, Peter? You look upset. Are you hurt? Does your stomach feel good?" He lifted a hand to check Sealand's forehead for fever when he failed to answer fast enough. "Do you feel sick?"

Sealand gazed at him blankly while he was doing this and lowered his blurry, burning eyes to the floor as Finland asked the last question. "No, Mama Finland," he mumbled. "I feel…fine."

Finland checked the temperature of his hand against Sealand's cheeks. "Are you sure? Do you want to sit down?"

Sealand glanced to the side of the room towards the kitchen doorway and saw Sweden turning his head to look for them. Not wanting to deal with his stubborn and observant papa, Sealand quickly back-pedaled.

"On second thought," he mumbled as Finland stepped back to see him better, "maybe I'm a little tired. I think I'm going to lay down for a while." He began to trudge away and started up the stairs.

"Oh. Okay." Finland didn't seem to know how to take this suddenly different Sealand. "Er…I'll be up in a few minutes! To…to check on you. Your room is the one you always have. Um…get right into bed and go to sleep, alright?"

Sealand didn't bother replying that he had already said he was going to do just that. Instead, he continued up the stairs and passed the two rooms to his left and entered the room at the end of the hall on the right. The room he always had when he stayed here was facing the small pond behind Norway's house, with the curtains of the window a clean white color and the comforter of the bed was of a deep blue. The room contained a cabinet for clothes, a bedside table, and a decent-sized red rug that covered a portion of the waxed wooden floors. Sealand walked over to the bed, staring at the covers without really seeing them and flopped down face-forward. He hadn't felt this emotionally bad before and it was practically exhausting on his person. He wished that the day was already over so he could put it behind him, but it was only five o'clock in the afternoon. It had started out not very well, but had gotten better as they arrived, then it went downhill and now he just wished he could've stayed at his jerk-brother's house for the week. Arthur may like to crush his dreams and tease him but Sealand at least knew where he stood with England and what his opinions of Sealand were. Now that Sealand had come here, it was like he was suddenly in a stranger's house filled with new people. He didn't know what the others thought of him. He didn't know where he stood with them now.

Sealand sighed glumly and pulled himself further onto the bed and laid his head on the white, soft pillows. He hoped that tomorrow would be a better day. Even when the others thought he was just a fort and a weak principality, Sealand would try to make tomorrow better than today had been.


	4. So It Begins

Ugh. What time was it? He felt exhausted but his body wouldn't let him go back to sleep. He felt so groggy and hot and uncomfortable. Where was he -? Oh, yeah. Norway's house. They had arrived yesterday. Was it morning? Sealand turned over to look at the clock on the bedside table.

9:57.

A look towards the window told him that it was too dark for it to be morning. He must've fallen asleep a few hours ago. It was still the day that they had arrived.

_Oh_ , _joy_ , Sealand thought sarcastically as he made to role out of the bed and noticed that instead of being on top of the covers the way he remembered before he fell asleep, he was under them instead. He took a minute to process this discovery with confusion. He didn't remember waking up and doing this himself, though it was possible since he tended to forget things when half-asleep. But it would take much more effort from his half-asleep self to get fully underneath them from his previous position.

Sealand gave a tiny smile.

His mama or papa must've came in and covered him up. He felt a little joy flicker inside and he felt more awake. It was quiet, though. From upstairs, anyway. He wondered where the others were at this time and what they had been doing.

_Probably talking about y–_

Sealand violently shook his head and quickly replaced the thought with one of Hanatamago. Um…she was quite…fluffy and…white. Yes. Fluffy Hanatamago was the perfect bad-thought killer. Which was ironic, considering she never killed anything else.

Sealand walked carefully to the door and gently pushed it open since it wasn't closed all of the way. He could faintly hear the murmurings of voices so everyone must be awake and hanging out downstairs. He crept down the stairs, not even knowing why he was being silent in the first place, and peeked into the kitchen – the room with the most noise.

Everyone seemed to be crowded around the kitchen table. Finland, Sweden, Norway, and Iceland were sitting in the kitchen chairs while Denmark was sitting upon a stepping stool (it was so small, most people's eyes wouldn't even be level with the table, however Denmark's height allowed his chest to crest the table so he could successfully see everyone gathered…further reflection probably pointed to Norway placing him on the stool in the first place). Sealand couldn't see Hana anywhere and guessed that she was probably sleeping in Mama Finland's room. What Sealand noticed the most in the room…were the alcohol bottles. They were covering the table, though they seemed to be more on Denmark's side than anyone else's. Sweden had a nice number of empty bottles in front of him as well while Norway only had the one and Finland and Iceland seemed to be drinking water. Sweden had a faint alcoholic blush across his face while Denmark looked normal but seemed to find more humor than necessary in everything that everyone was doing. Norway made occasional comments about Denmark's I.Q. (or lack of) and Iceland seemed uncomfortable to be there in the first place. Finland kept a smile on his face throughout the conversations. As Sealand watched out of sight from the doorway, Denmark let out a loud laugh even though no one had said anything and asked Finland a question. Sealand perked up.

"You still let the kid call you 'mama'?"

Finland gave a chuckle. "Well, I didn't want him to at first, but I've gotten used to it since then. I've actually grown to expect it now."

Denmark guffawed while swishing his bottle around. It came dangerously close to Sweden's head. "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, _ja_?"

Finland smiled politely. "Peter's a good boy."

Sealand looked down at the floor with a horrified look. His Mama Finland didn't want to be called "mama"? Why didn't he ever say anything? Is it because of the whole "Nordic" thing again? But…he couldn't help that! If Finland didn't want to be called "mama", he should've just _said so_! Sealand swallowed hard. It's because he's adopted. What about Papa Sweden? Did he not want Sealand to call him "papa", either? And Denmark? They were like brothers, weren't they? If Denmark knew about this and didn't tell him…were they making fun of him? About how he didn't know anything?

Sealand realized that he hadn't been breathing and quickly took a gasp of air. His heart hurt on the inside. Okay, don't freak out. Think back. When Sealand first arrived, it's true that Finland didn't seem very comfortable being referred to as "mama", but – but…that was just because…because why? Sealand thought some more but couldn't think of an excuse other than Finland didn't want to be his mama. Sealand clutched his chest and backed out of the kitchen to thump against the wall. He was so confused. He didn't know what to think anymore and he was just so, so _confused_.

Sealand peeked back into the kitchen and met Iceland's eyes. They stared at one another trying to gauge each other's thoughts and Iceland seemed confused as to why Sealand hadn't entered the kitchen yet. Iceland opened his mouth, probably to report him or blow his cover by asking him something, but Sealand didn't want to see any of them anymore, much less talk to them after the way this night had turned out, and bolted upstairs, ran into his room, and jumped into the bed. He wouldn't come out again until tomorrow. He didn't think he could handle this otherwise.

* * *

 

Sealand felt himself launched into the air and he startled awake, letting out a brief yell before landing on the soft bed. He heard a snort of laughter that sounded suspiciously like Denmark before a fluffy ball of white moved to attack his face with dog kisses.

"Wake up, Sea! It's the rockin' wake-up tag-team!"

Sealand quickly sat up, pushing the hyperactive Hana away from him and looking up. Denmark was grinning at him from his crouched position on Sealand's bed and Finland was at the doorway smiling before walking off down the stairs. Sealand looked back to Denmark and did a (manly) pout.

"Mean, Mathias."

Denmark laughed again. "Time to wake up. Nor's been cookin' up a big breakfast and you'd be sorry if you missed it." He pushed his arms against the bed quickly making the bed bounce a little. "C'mon, squirt. You want me to help you get dressed?" He grinned in humor. "I used to do that when Ice was little, you know."

Sealand glared at Denmark. He was _not_ a child despite what they thought of him.

" _Peter's a good boy."_

He almost scoffed. A good boy. Yeah, right. He wasn't going to be made fun of anymore. He was smarter now and he knew what they thought of him. He wasn't going to be their _joke_.

His voice was harsh. "I can do it myself. I'll be down when I'm ready."

Denmark blinked and seemed taken aback by this tone of voice from his little buddy. He usually got that tone from Nor and sometimes from Sve when he was irritated by Denmark but never from the littlest of the family. He brushed it off as morning irritation and hopped off the bed, grin back on his face.

"Well, I'll just leave you to it then. Be down soon, okay? If you don't the food'll all be gone~!" He left, noisily making his way down the stairs only to be reprimanded strictly by Norway to, "Stop your thunderous troll feet from breaking my house, stupid Dane."

Sealand gave the open doorway one last look before getting out of his bed, throwing the covers to the other side in a lazy manner of making up the bed. Hana couldn't avoid the covers quick enough and disappeared beneath the folds. Her small form scuttled around underneath as she tried to find the covers' end. Sealand couldn't contain his smile at how funny she looked. After a few more seconds of watching the little bump travel back and forth, Sealand took pity on her and lifted up the top corner of the covers.

"Hey, Hana. You need some help, girl?" He grinned.

Hanatamago wagged her tail and leaped down to the floor, waiting for Sealand a few seconds before trotting off happily to explore more of the house.

Sealand quickly got dressed. He smelled the aroma of breakfast and his stomach was going to eat itself if he didn't get down there soon. He paused briefly as he thought of how the feeling of avoiding them hadn't gone away yet, but he was hungry and he would have to grin and bear it. He made his way to the kitchen. Their stay here was only for a week. Just, what, four or six more days? He'd tuned out and hadn't paid attention if his parents were counting business days or not. Sealand walked into the kitchen and quietly sat down at one of the empty chairs, keeping his eyes down. He looked up briefly to study the occupants of the kitchen. Finland and Norway appeared to have already eaten, not being able to wait for such a late riser as Sealand any longer, and were washing dishes. Denmark was probably on his third helping of a breakfast consisting of bread, cheeses, and eggs while Iceland was still on his first. Sweden didn't seem to have eaten breakfast and was instead drinking coffee that he had brought along from his house and had a half-eaten cinnamon role in front of him.

"Pet'r."

Sealand looked up as half a cinnamon role was thrust into his face. He leaned back slightly to look at his papa who seemed to be waiting for him to take it. Sealand was reminded of his papa's _fika_ , as he called it, the type of coffee break that Sweden often took. Sealand sometimes joined him, especially if his papa had cakes or something sweet, which he mostly did, and they would get into the habit of splitting a pastry to share with one another. He gently took the pastry but did not eat it, and stared down at the table, no longer feeling as hungry as he did before he arrived.

"Thanks, Papa."

Sealand assumed he got a nod in response as his papa usually gave him. He listened to the sounds of the kitchen as he nibbled unenthusiastically on the pastry. He glanced up when he heard Denmark across from him.

"So, Sea, Ice-y tells me you were up last night but didn't come in and join us. 'S' it because you were afraid we'd make you try some beer? Hahaha!"

Sweden didn't seem to find this as humorous as Denmark did and Sealand didn't either. Tattle-tale Iceland.

"It's not THAT bad. I drink it all the time and each time it gets better!"

" _You still let the kid call you 'mama'?"_

Sealand frowned, his bad mood returning in a rush. "I didn't come in because I was afraid you'd make me _drink_ , _Mathias_."

Sealand immediately knew his mouth had betrayed him as everyone in the kitchen stopped what they were doing and turned to stare at him. Sealand felt his face get hot as he had just spoken acidly to Mathias, something he never did, much less use that tone of voice with anyone else.

"Uh…s-sorry…." He kept his blushing face down. He had just been _very_ disrespectful and to do it in a way that was in front of everyone like this was even worse! The silence was straining and he didn't want to look up to see how everyone's expressions looked. Time seemed to crawl by for Sealand.

"Uh…haha! Well, next time feel free to join us! We'd rather not leave anyone out, you know?" Denmark laughed it off and the building tension in the kitchen decreased.

Sealand nodded in relief, though he thought this last comment was hypocritical seeing as how he still being "left out" of the Nordics, but his bad mood had been replaced with mortification at his outward behavior and he couldn't bring himself to feel bitter about that now. The kitchen resumed its liveliness. He quickly finished the cinnamon role while avoiding his eyes from the curious stare of Iceland, the worried look from Finland, and the penetrating gaze of Sweden.

Eventually, breakfast was finished and he almost sprinted away from the kitchen to get a break from everyone. He sat in the living room on Norway's large comfy dark blue couch and sunk into it. What a way to start off the day. He sighed. Eventually, he heard someone's feet scrub the floor behind him. He turned to look back and saw Denmark leaning over the back of the couch, grinning.

"Your boring father informed me that you couldn't go elk riding like we talked about. Sorry about that. But-!" He jumped over the couch and landed heavily beside Sealand. "We can do plenty of other cool things! Whatever you want - just say the word and I'll even play one of our pranks on Lukas in there!" He gave a laugh but waited for Sealand's approval or disapproval.

Sealand studied Denmark's face and realized he wasn't really angry at him anymore, at least at this moment, and still wanted to hang out with his friend. He gave a weak but honest smile.

"Okay. But let's save the pranks for when it's time for bed or something."

Denmark grinned again and gave a thumbs-up. "You got it, kid. So do you want to play one 'a your games? I got some new ones myself just for this occasion," he said as he bent down in front of the cabinets to the wooden structure holding the television, and picked out some samples.

Sealand picked a martial arts-themed fighting game, took hold of one of the controllers, and proceeded to have fun for the first time since he first arrived here.

They played for what seemed like hours before taking a break from the video game. They ate sandwiches with turkey and ham while sitting in the living room on the couch, now watching whatever happened to be on television, not really caring for a specific program at this time. Sealand was enjoying the peace. He and Denmark hadn't really talked while playing video games, but the silence between them was a comfortable one and Sealand hadn't had any bitter thoughts leading to confrontation. This was nice. This was how things were supposed to play out. Sealand relaxed further into the couch.

What caught his attention was the volume on the TV being turned down to a lesser extent. He turned to look curiously at Denmark who was facing Sealand with a smile that didn't reach his eyes – the rest of his face looking more serious.

"So, what's up with you, Peter?"


	5. Unplanned Punishments

"So, what's up with you, Peter?"

Peter felt his heart constrict in apprehension as he stared at Denmark. They were both silent, waiting for the other one to clarify. For Sealand, it seemed as if his brain had stopped working. Had they figured it out? What would they do now? How would they treat him? He didn't want anything more to change within what little normalcy he had in his life. Things seemed bad now, but he was positive they could be worse. He would take what he could get if it just meant he could continue to live somewhere instead of being kicked out.

…But…he hadn't been kicked out yet.

He struggled to calm his racing heart as his eyesight focused and he realized that Denmark was still waiting for him to respond. Not sure how much time had passed within his thoughts, Sealand gave a nervous smile.

"W-What did you ask?" He rallied his attention better when Denmark began to look at him with a worried gaze. "Sorry, I guess I spaced o-out." _Stop stuttering_ , he commanded himself. He began to feel very hot again and his hands felt a little sweaty. He had the urge to wipe them on his shorts but he could tell Denmark would notice and read more into the action than Sealand wanted. He might tell his parents when he had gone to sleep. He'd wait. He probably planned this whole thing out so that he could interrogate Sealand like this. They were probably waiting for him to walk back to the kitchen to tell them what was wrong with him. He couldn't trust Mathias now if that was the case.

Sealand started.

No. Wait. Mathias was a friend, of course he could trust him.

_Don't be…silly._

Still…no. Denmark was his friend. Not to mention a substitute brother.

Sealand rested the back of his hand on his hot forehead and shielded his eyes from the room. He was being jumpy. He was expecting to be tossed out of this family at any moment. He was acting like he'd killed someone or something. He had to calm down before he really messed things up. He had to calm down.

_Calm down._

"Hey!"

Sealand's head shot up when a hand clamped to his shoulder in a vice grip. He winced.

"O-Ow-!"

"Oh!" Denmark pulled away, looking scandalized. "M' sorry, Sea. But you were really freakin' me out there." He tried to opt for a smile but it fell flat and he gave up. "Are you sick? What's happening with you?"

Sealand sighed and closed his eyes in an effort to regain control of his body and mind. "Nothing, Mathias."

Denmark made a rude noise of disbelief.

"I mean…I've just had stuff on my mind." Silence descended and they looked into each other's eyes. "…That's all."

Denmark almost lifted a brow. "That's all?" They kept eye contact.

Sealand looked away first. "Yeah." Man, this was starting to feel extremely awkward. He wanted to leave the room badly. He glanced at the doorway to the kitchen over the back of the couch, seeing no one in the opening, then his eyes flitted to look out of the window that was directly behind Denmark. Huh, it was really bright outside.

"Hey," Denmark began, bringing Sealand's attention back to him and away from the exits of the house, "you know you can tell me anything if something's wrong, right? Peter? I'll listen to whatever ya' got on your mind, no matter what it is."

Sealand paused to filter what Denmark was saying and felt a twitch at his lips in appreciation, even if he couldn't exactly trust Denmark with this.

"Yeah, I know. Sorry, Mathias. But it really is nothing. Just stupid stuff."

Denmark leaned back to appraise him. Eventually, his customary grin made its way onto his face. "Alright. Good to hear!" The tense atmosphere in the room disappeared. "Oh, and your parents wanted me to tell you earlier that they're goin' to the grocery store in a bit and they want ya' to come along. …If you want to?"

Sealand frowned. The day wasn't even half over, now he was going to socialize with more of them. He worried about his body betraying more of his thoughts. Well, there was really nothing for it and he couldn't deny an invitation from his parents without seeming suspicious.

"Sure. Okay," he reluctantly agreed.

* * *

 

Sealand looked at the grocery store's products as he and his parents walked through the aisles. They were looking for ingredients that they could buy to make some dishes of their own to share at dinner with the other Nordics. Being that the principality of Sealand didn't actually own any original foods, Sealand was feeling a bit pouty at the fact that he couldn't share any culture of his own. Well, besides his brother's, that is. Jerk Arthur's, he meant. Sealand sighed as his parents' boring talk of what ingredients they should or shouldn't buy washed over him.

"Oh, Peter," Sealand looked over towards Finland, "I remembered just now. How has Raivis been lately? Are you two still talking to each other?"

Raivis? Oh, he had not spoken to his friend in a while. Raivis Galante, otherwise known as Latvia. Sealand frequently called him to either tell him about something exciting or something horrible. It was a bit unusual that he had not called Latvia in so long. Had it been a few months already? No, that's right. He had not spoken to Latvia since the World Meeting. Ever since, Sealand had been having to deal with a bunch of unanswered questions and unpleasant thoughts, so the calls to Latvia had trickled down his priority list. Sealand wished he had a cell phone now so he could see how his fellow underestimated nation was doing.

"Yes, F-M-Mama. We still talk. Just haven't called him yet is all!" Sealand finished with a crooked smile. Whew! He almost referred to Mama Finland by his name. That would have caused more trouble than there was already.

Finland gave him a look but brushed off the behavior. "Well, good." He smiled as he put some vegetables in a bag. "I'm glad you have such a nice friend, Peter. You should invite him over sometime."

"Why, so you can kick him out, too?"

…Oh, bollocks.

Sealand, astonished, almost covered his mouth. That wasn't supposed to come out at all!

Finland looked at him in surprise, more at his bitter tone of voice than what he actually said. The son he knew never spoke with such bitterness that Sealand had been displaying since this morning – yesterday, if he wanted to get technical.

"What do you mean? Why would anyone kick out Raivis? Did something happen to him?"

Sealand wanted to bash his head into the wall and…and die or something. He didn't mean for that to slip out. He was feeling protective of his friend and himself and his feelings rose in a flash again and he said exactly what he was thinking at the moment. He tried to look both apologetic and innocent.

"No, F-Mama. I mean, I was thinking about something else. No one's going to kick Raivis out or anything. I was just thinking about something else," he repeated, trying to convince Finland not to start asking questions towards various other countries and getting everyone upset and confused.

Sweden appeared between the vegetable stands they were at and looked at both of them. "What's th' matter?"

"Peter told me someone was kicking Raivis out?"

"N-No! I said that I was thinking about something else! Listen to me."

Sweden looked at Finland with silent confusion. "K'cked out?"

"Listen!"

"Just a moment, please."

"I said _listen to me_!"

Finland turned to him with a frown, hiding his exasperation. "We are, Peter. Don't raise your voice – wait until adults are done, alright? I just wanted to confirm this with your Papa."

"No, you were ignoring what I said!"

"What did you say, then?" Finland turned his full attention to Sealand with a patient and serene face.

"Agh! I was _saying_ that I didn't _mean_ what I said _before_ – I was _thinking_ about something else!" he replied with increasing ire to his tone. He knew he didn't normally speak this way to his Mama Finland, but he was tired of being overlooked. Fed up with it. Other countries did it constantly – he shouldn't have to suffer this hurt from his family as well.

Sweden, however, did not appreciate Sealand's attitude.

"Pet'r. You know not t' speak t' your p'rents like that."

Peter already felt defensive and backed into a verbal corner. With this sentence from his father, he suddenly felt as if everyone was ganging up against him.

And no one was on his side. As always.

No one saw what he was trying to say or they did and just ignored it. He felt like a…like a war fort that was built and then abandoned, trying to prove himself to all countries big and small. And it wasn't working in his favor. Because no one would help him. Not even his parents! Finland showed more worry for Latvia than he ever showed for Sealand! Well, fine! Finland could have any son he wanted if he was going to be like that! But Sealand was a going to be a country no matter how many times he was struck down and he would not be treated this way!

Sealand turned to his father, eyes flashing. "Shut up! You don't get to tell me what to do if you don't even listen to what I say in the first place! I'm tired of not being taken seriously! No one has the right to stand over me and talk to me the way you two do all the time! No matter what you think, you're not better than me!"

Sealand paused. He was looking at the floor now with clenched fists. It was silent around him. The first thing he noticed were the appalled shoppers further back staring. He then looked up to see Finland's shocked face. Then he glanced to Sweden. Sweden's face was darker than he had ever seen it directed at him before. And he stared right into Sealand's eyes with a stony promise of retaliation. Sealand felt his heart skip a beat. He had never angered his papa this bad before. He had never seen him so angry, not even at Denmark. Sealand felt himself shrink back in a grand mix of embarrassment, nervousness, mortification, worry, and…fear. Was this what Sweden's enemies saw? Sealand found the floor a much more pleasant thing to look at.

He heard Sweden shift and felt the eyes leave him as Sweden addressed Finland.

"We're goin' t' th' car. Here's th' money f'r the groceries."

"Right. I'll…be there in a minute."

With that, Finland quietly left down the aisle to finish shopping. Sealand felt his father's stare on him again.

"C'mon."

Sweden's footsteps left him but Sealand felt rooted to the floor.

What had he just done? They had been looking for any chance to get rid of him. And he just gave it to them. Not only that but he felt their disappointment in him. It felt horrible like it was crushing him beneath its weight and he wished he could take back his outburst.

Sealand swallowed, his throat dry, but forced his legs to move. He didn't want to make Sweden more angry than he already was.

* * *

 

The car ride home had been one filled with one of the most tense atmospheres Sealand ever experienced. No one seemed to know what to say. His father, after giving Sealand such a hard lecture about authority and respect that Sealand cried from heart-felt regret, had grounded him from all electronics for this week at Norway's and the next week at home. If he didn't "learn his lesson", it'd be a harsher punishment. When they arrived back at Norway's home, Denmark had endeavored to resume playing games with Sealand, but he was silently rebuffed and Sealand, perceiving a talk in the near future from his parents, ascended the stairs quickly in embarrassment as he felt everyone's judging eyes on his back.

He flopped miserably onto his bed once he walked into his room and pressed his face into his pillow, erasing the remaining tear tracks from Sweden's lecture. Grounded. And he might have hurt his parents' feelings or something to top it off. And this morning he had snapped at Denmark. He heaved a shaky sigh. The only good thing about this so far was that he had not been thrown out yet.

He rolled onto his side so he could breathe better. Maybe he should call Latvia tomorrow. That should help him feel better. Latvia may not have the best advice, but at least he listened and offered what he could. He decided he would miss dinner tonight. He didn't feel hungry, anyway.

As a result of this, he was not aware of the small meeting being held downstairs that involved him and his family. Nor of how strong the resolve of the Nordics was.

Especially when it involved someone in their family.


	6. Something Beneath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I read in three different places that Icelanders have a rather wide vocabulary, I apologize in advance if this is untrue and Iceland seems out of character.

Peter held in a sigh as he plopped the egg into the bowl being used to make the _Sandbakkel_ cookies. He reached for the almond extract and measured out the necessary amount required for the afternoon snack. Beside him, a quiet Iceland was preparing the fruit that would go into the cookies' indent. Sealand resisted the urge to look at Iceland; he hadn't been alone with the country since…well…he hadn't ever been alone with the country. Or at least not since the first time they had met. It had been silent between them now for fifteen minutes. It felt like an hour instead. Sealand had gotten past the initial uncomfortable atmosphere. Now it was just stifling. It seemed neither of them knew what to say to the other one. Sealand couldn't help but think that this situation was his fault, given his previous failed attempts at carrying on (or starting) a conversation with the Icelandic member of the Nordics. Breakfast that morning was a rather quiet affair as well. Though the breakfast table was not entirely silent, there was an undercurrent of…Sealand couldn't quite put his finger on it. It hadn't been uncomfortable – though he knew his parents must've informed the rest on his outburst at the grocery store and why he was now prohibited from playing with any electronics for a while – but the atmosphere held something in it that made Sealand feel unsure. It seemed like everyone was aware of something that he wasn't. Needless to say, it made him feel apprehensive as to what the day would hold. Immediately after breakfast, however, Norway informed him that Sealand would be working with Iceland in the kitchen in order to make _Sandbakkel_ cookies, a Norwegian sweet, and they were not to leave the kitchen until the snack was made (which, Sealand was informed by a too-chipper Denmark, would take at least two hours because the cookies had to be refrigerated at one point for a length of time).

As Sealand carefully grasped the measuring cup and measured out the appropriate amount of flour, he fought to hold in another sigh as his mind flashed back to what made him stare at his plate the entire time during breakfast. His father. He…couldn't look at him. The entire time, Sealand had wanted to glance up, just to see if his papa was still furious with him; to see if his papa had forgiven him, like Sealand desperately wanted him to. He wanted to see if the Swedish man held any anger or resentment for him but Sealand was too afraid that he hadn't been forgiven just yet. He didn't want to see any glares or frowns directed towards him. With the small amount of hope he was clinging to regarding his place in this close-knit family, he didn't think he could take it. He regretted the grocery store incident greatly. It made him feel ashamed…of how he acted…and all those people saw. But, probably worst than that, was that he felt he had hurt Finland's feelings and disappointed Sweden. Even if, in the future, his parents decided he was too much trouble to keep, Sealand still didn't want to hurt them like that again. It didn't feel nice when you feel you disappointed or hurt your parents' feelings. Not to people as unconfrontational as his parents. He decided to apologize to Sweden and Finland when he got the chance. Perhaps that just might save his skin from being kicked out so far from home because of his behavior.

Yes, Sealand felt his days had possibly just been numbered, so to speak. If the Nordics had any idea of getting rid of him, Sealand felt he had just given them a good reason to do it fast. He felt panicked – rushed – but he also felt a little resigned.

_I mean, what can I do?_

What could he do.

What could he do.

It seemed almost like a mantra. He didn't know what to do. Was there a way to change their minds? How could he get into their good graces? Was he ever there in the first place? What would make them happy? Him being there or him being gone? If he did extra chores, would that make them happy? If he kept his mouth shut? If he ran away so that they could have the easy excuse on why he wasn't there, bothering them? He didn't know what to do in this situation and he felt so, so confused and upset. He _had_ to talk to Latvia. He had to talk to someone. Get their opinion. What should he do. Could he make it better or worse. He needed advice or…or _something_!

This time he did let out a sigh as he controlled his spinning thoughts. He was a country. And countries were put in different kinds of situations all the time. He didn't see countries like the Jerk or America or even mister Germany cry about anything like getting disowned. He'd just have to…"man up" or something. That's what a country did.

_But you're just a principa-_

_No_. He was a country and he'd deal with this like a country. All…mature-like. No tears. And no begging. Or pleading. Or…anything else that he might do.

Sealand frowned. Maybe he should just act like mister Germany, or Japan, or Russia. …No, he wasn't weird enough to act like Russia. But everyone not in a specific clique seemed to gravitate towards mister Germany or Japan when they came out of the World Conferences. Everyone, even if they didn't like the two countries, usually talked to them with friendly faces at least once afterwards. Sealand, before he got adopted and was still starved for attention and conversation, sometimes would try to interject himself into the conversations so that he could be like the others – cozying up to the two post-Axis members. Sealand admitted that they weren't as…condemning of his presence as some of the other countries seemed to be and that made him feel much better at the time. He could see why other countries would want to talk to them; they were polite and honest and only judged people for themselves. He usually couldn't get to Japan without the Jerk around, but that was alright, he supposed. He looked up to mister Germany a bit, though, due to the whole event in which his fort was invaded and Germany recognized him by sending a diplomat to negotiate for his prisoner of war. It was the first time he ever felt that he was on equal status as everyone else.

He reviewed that memory fondly again while he whisked the concoction for the cookies around in the bowl. Wait. How did he get on that topic? He was thinking about what he should do to make things better! How did he…! Stupid thoughts! Stupid brain! This was why he needed someone to talk to! ASAP! So that he could get his _bloody_ _thoughts_ organized already!

A loud "THUMP!" echoed from beside him and his shoulders jumped as his eyes snapped to the person beside him. Iceland had very firmly set his bowl of fruit for the cookies down upon the counter and he was staring straight at them, avoiding eye contact with anything else. Sealand looked at him in confusion. Was something wrong with Iceland? Was he…angry? Angry, maybe, that he had to work with Sealand? Sealand caught movement in the far corner of his eye before he could reflect on that rather discouraging thought, and turned towards it just in time to see what looked like Denmark disappear very obviously behind the outer kitchen wall. Sealand stared at the wall with a sense of bemusement. What in the world was the Dane up to?

Iceland clearing his throat brought Sealand's attention back to the previous matter. Iceland had yet to look at him still but he was gripping the sides of the fruit bowl, looking as if he was either about to curse the inanimate food or throw it on the floor. Sealand waited for him to start talking since it was obvious Iceland had something to say. It didn't take long.

"So…"

"'So'?"

Iceland turned towards him, eyes averted, glanced at him, glanced towards the kitchen doorway (or the wall), and glanced back at Sealand. "Do you…ah…have anything you want to talk about? Recently?"

Sealand felt just as confused as Iceland looked lost.

"Um…no, I guess not."

Iceland looked put-out at this answer, but pushed on. "You don't have anything bothering you? Not that it's any of my business."

Sealand frowned. If it wasn't any of his business, why did Iceland ask in the first place? He felt defensive in response to the long-standing guilt over how he and Iceland never got along and the small twinge of hurt over how Iceland had phrased that Sealand wasn't his "business". Was he even asking how Sealand was because he was worried, or was it because of something else? Because someone had put him up to it. He thought back to spotting Denmark very briefly before he hid, and it made sense.

"If it's none of your business, then why are you asking?" Ah! _No_ , Sealand thought to himself, _you don't want to start a fight with Emil; you don't know what he'll do. Just go back to making these stupid cookies and then get the heck out of here._ With that, he made an embarrassing effort to go back to mixing the batter.

Iceland wasn't ready to ignore the conversation he started. "I'm asking _now_." He paused and tried to change his tone, which was so used to snapping at the Nordics around him because of their teasing and/or stupidity. "Just…if something is bothering you, you should say so," he forced out, his voice taking on an edge of unintentional impatience. "I heard it's better, to get things out. But I wouldn't really know, so," he trailed off.

Sealand had turned his attention to Iceland again. This conversation felt very awkward and uncomfortable. It felt forced and insincere. He would rather not have it at all. The impatience and annoyance in Iceland's voice kept him from considering the words seriously.

"You don't have to force yourself, Emil. I'm fine," he said quietly, gently continuing the mixing of the batter. He wanted Iceland to take the hint to drop the subject.

Iceland either ignored his tone and body language or wasn't as perceptive as others were. "I don't think everyone else thinks so."

"I don't think everyone else knows what I know."

"If they did, would they know the truth?"

"I'm telling the truth now."

"Bullshit."

Sealand started at the swear and Iceland visibly pulled back, remembering that he was in the presence of someone not used to his personality. He sighed inwardly in frustration.

"I only mean that– Look, your parents think there's something bothering you. They wanted me to ask. That's all."

He _knew_ it. "So this was a scheme – to get us alone so I could be questioned."

_You don't care about me personally._

Iceland frowned. "I think you're getting the wrong idea again."

"About what, _Emil_?"

"About a lot of things, _Peter_ ," he answered him in the same biting tone.

"I think you're just doing this because you were asked to."

"I was asked to, _já_."

"Then why are you still on about this!" Peter felt like throwing his hands up in exasperation. He was sick and tired of everyone having double motives in this house. It was starting to be too much. He didn't want to talk anymore and his feelings were hurt by Iceland's admission.

Iceland glared in pure frustration and his voice rose in volume as a result. "Because you're acting like a child and yelling all of the time. You haven't really smiled since you came here and you're bringing everyone down!"

Sealand felt his eyes start to prickle. "Well, sorry if I ruined your nice family time! It sure looked like you guys were having fun before!" his sarcastic voice rose in response.

"It's not _my_ family time you've ruined!" Iceland clenched his fists. "Stop acting so spoiled!"

Sealand flinched back from the hurtful words. How could he say that to him? He felt bad enough that he had snapped at his parents and Denmark. Now his guilt was being rubbed in his face even more. Sealand had never truly had a serious fight with anyone – especially not with someone in his family. He realized now how it felt. It hurt.

It _hurt_.

He dimly heard Denmark call if they were alright from somewhere outside his mind. He felt tears spill down his cheeks and he squeezed his eyes shut and sniffed loudly.

"You're a-!" He sobbed. "You're a jerk, Iceland!" He couldn't take it anymore. He ran out of the kitchen, out of the back door to the house, down the steps, and towards the pond a good distance away from the house. He briefly heard voices but could not tell whose they were or how loud they were being. He just wanted to get away from the hurt.

* * *

 

Sealand had been squatting at the edge of the pond opposite the house for what seemed like forever now. He had cried a bit before – not much! – and he felt spent and sullen. He had a stick and was swishing it around in the murky water, idly teasing the surrounding algae with it. His mind kept going back to the fight. He and England had been in a few fights before, but none of them were ever as serious or as hurtful as this one had been. And he never would have thought he'd have it with Iceland, the quietest member of the Nordics.

He swished the stick around again in a circle, watching the green swaying algae cling to it before starting the motion over.

" _It's not_ my _family time you've ruined! Stop acting so spoiled!"_

Sealand squeezed his eyes shut before he could cry again. His eyes hurt a lot from wiping them repeatedly and he didn't want to make them worse. Also, he was a big boy. He had told himself he wouldn't cry again. He sighed, disheartened, after he gained control of himself again. This whole "country" thing was harder than he thought it would be. Much harder. Did he seem spoiled? He didn't mean to act like it or anything. How do you act spoiled? Sealand thought you had to be mean and order everyone around for that. He yelled at his parents in the store yesterday, yeah, but he wasn't _mean_. Was he mean? It didn't matter. Iceland said he was spoiled, and in that voice where they knew they were right. Sealand sniffed again. Oh, and the cookies might be ruined by now or something, he didn't know – cookies that you had to make from scratch were weird. He tilted his head to rest in his folded arms. His body felt like a clogged drain – all leaky and stuffed up.

He heard a small bark and the sound of tiny feet running through leaves on the ground. He tilted his head up, already knowing what it was. Sure enough, Hanatamago was happily making her way towards him with cheerful determination. Sealand almost smiled at her innocent happiness at seeing him as she ran with a doggy smile. He felt trepidation at seeing his father following her with a steady pace towards him. Though, Sweden didn't seem angry with his disappearing and skipping out on one of his punishments, so Sealand relaxed, averting his eyes to Hanatamago when she finally reached him. He reluctantly unfolded a hand and began petting her to calm her down so she would stop trying to find an opening in his lap. She collapsed on the ground in content, the petting continuing, as Sweden made it to the spot where Sealand was. It was quiet between them as they stared at each other for a few seconds before Sweden broke eye contact and sat on the ground beside Sealand, staring out at the pond and Norway's house on the other side of it. Sealand mirrored him.

It was quiet a while longer before his father spoke through the silence.

"Norw'y said th'r' was a fight."

"…Yeah."

"Mm. Icel'nd was sad about it."

"Good."

"…"

"I mean, no. I didn't mean that."

Sweden placed a comforting hand on Sealand's hair. "I know."

And with that Sealand almost broke down again. It took a monstrous effort to hold back another tear fest. He managed eventually. Sweden was silent throughout.

Sealand's voice wavered but he didn't cry anymore. Maybe he had finally reached his tear quota for the day. For the week, hopefully. "Iceland s-said I ruined our family time."

"I d'n't see how."

"He-He said I was bringing everyone down."

Sweden met his eyes and started rubbing the hand on Sealand's head back and forth slowly.

"He said I was acting childish."

"You are a ch'ld."

"But I don't _want_ to be!" He stopped petting Hana, who leapt to her feet and chased some falling leaves a few feet away. "I…I just want to be like everyone else. Being a kid – no one takes me seriously."

"Who."

Sealand looked at his father in annoyed confusion. Wasn't it obvious? He gestured to the space around them as if people were there. "Everyone. All of the countries. Even the humans. Everyone does."

"I take y' ser'ously."

"…Well –"

"Y' Mama does, too."

"But-!"

"'N' your fam'ly."

Sealand didn't know how to respond to this as he wasn't a true part of the family, right now at least. But he didn't want to have anymore conversations about family or lack of, so he stayed silent, turning his attention back to the opaque waters of the pond. The hand on his head stopped rubbing but stayed where it was. They sat in silence more, though it was one more comfortable than the last. Eventually, Sealand sighed loudly and Sweden, in his ability at reading his adopted son's signals, stood as a sign that he was ready to go inside the house when Sealand was. Sealand glanced up at him and felt appreciation for his papa. Many people didn't like Berwald Oxenstierna only because of his outward appearance. Sealand was sorry for those people because his papa was one of the nicest people on Earth and they will never get to know that. He stood as well, brushing off the mud from his shoes on the grass further up the bank. Hana bounded over to them in glee and Sealand scooped her up, rubbing her ears. Sealand and his papa began their walk back towards the house side by side. For the first time since they arrived at Norway's house, Sealand felt like his papa cared about him, like he was on no one else's side but his, and it felt wonderful. He had been feeling as if he were alone in the house, that everyone was against him. He glanced up at the tall man beside him and opened his mouth to say something before closing it. After a minute, he tried once more.

"Um…Papa."

Sweden grunted in attention.

Sealand looked away, shy. "I…I'm sorry. About the grocery store. I didn't mean to yell."

Sweden continued walking, not looking at Sealand but making sure they were always beside each other.

"I know."


	7. Bare Emotions

When Peter entered the house, he felt like he wanted to turn right back outside. His papa, however, had placed himself behind Sealand, blocking the doorway. With apprehension, Sealand searched for anyone (namely Emil) who might want to have more words with him; he wanted to avoid more talking. He saw no one, though, and his father placed a hand on his shoulder and steered him towards the stairs and his room, informing Sealand that they had finished the cookies (which were now in the refrigerator with the fruit, waiting) and had gone to purchase something for dinner while he had gone outside to get Sealand. Sweden, to Sealand's surprise, began searching through Sealand's bags, gathering the pajamas he normally slept in. He gestured for him to follow Sweden to the bathroom then ordered Sealand to take a shower and get dressed in the pajamas even though it was still early in the day.

"It'll make y' feel bett'r," was all he replied before he left, closing the door with a soft click.

He loved his father greatly, but sometimes he was just weird. Sealand thought back to a few minutes ago when they talked – with just the two of them. Well, weird in a good way, he corrected himself. He had to admit, though, the shower did make him feel better. His shoulders relaxed and his stuffy nose cleared as the warm water pelted his back. He hadn't even realized his body was cold before now. He closed his eyes in relaxation, let go of all thoughts of family and grief and sadness, and simply focused on the sound and feel of the artificial rain. He didn't know how long he had been in the shower when he heard voices over the sound of the shower. He opened his eyes with a worried frown. Everyone was back.

* * *

 

No one had been on the second floor of the house when he had finally exited the bathroom, so he felt silly for his sneaking to his room, but, in his defense, he felt it was warranted. He took a few minutes to get himself prepared for anything that might be said, talking himself into a feeling of preparation and confidence. He would just face his family and apologize for his outburst. Err…"outbursts". Then he would try to be better. Try to be more likeable – be more respectable. Parents liked that, right? That's what he would do. Then he could have more moments with his parents like he just did with Sweden. He would be liked and, eventually, with good behavior, he would be accepted. With this mindset, he attempted to look more presentable (despite the slightly embarrassing baby blue pajamas his papa had picked out for him to wear) and tried to flatten or style his rebellious hair. It failed spectacularly. Why did he have to have the Jerk's hair?

Giving up, he left the room and turned to go downstairs, caught sight of the portable phone plugged into the wall in the hallway, and turned back. Now might be the only chance he would have in all this confusion to call Raivis. As he picked up the phone and began dialing the number he knew by heart now he began to grow excited. Sealand and Latvia had seemed so preoccupied lately with their own affairs they hadn't had a chance to really speak to one another for months. He heard voices rise for a second and stopped to listen if anyone was ascending the stairs. When no one was heard approaching, he continued to dial his friend's secure and personal number in a more careful way; he didn't want to face anyone from downstairs until he at least had his conversation and he didn't want to be interrupted, either. Hearing the dial tone was one of the best sounds in the world. The ringing tone abruptly stopped.

" _Tere, Galante elukoht?_ "

What the-? Sealand looked at the receiver in confusion. That didn't sound like Raivis at all. Did he dial the right number? He hesitantly placed the phone back to his ear. "Hello?"

There was a pause from the other end of the phone, then in polite English –

"Hello. Galante residence."

Huh. He recognized the English now. That sounded like…. "Mister Estonia?" Mister Estonia was at Latvia's house? Sealand didn't know if they met regularly, but he knew they visited each other sometimes.

Another pause came over the phone, and Estonia's voice came again, still polite but now with a hint of caution. "May I ask who it is that is calling?"

"Oh! Um, it's Sealand – Peter Kirkland." Sealand couldn't help but make his name sound like a question. He didn't know Estonia very well despite Latvia's close ties to both of them. The impression Sealand got about the country was that Estonia seemed very professional (a quality that was hard to find in their fellow personifications) but also very quiet and a bit overshadowed by the more boisterous and rowdy of the countries. He always seemed nice enough, though.

"Kirkland. You are…" a pause, "…Arthur's younger brother, correct? You live with your parents."

Sealand winced at this information even though it was true. Until he was recognized he would always be "so-and-so's brother" or "so-and-so's child". He held in a sigh and replied.

"Yes, sir. Um…"

"Please, call me Eduard. It will be easier and it will be more secure. One cannot be too careful."

Sealand heard the smile in the reply but blushed at his broadcasting their country names before. Granted, this line was secure but, like Estonia said, one could never be too careful. He would have to remember that more if he was going to get recognized. "Right. Sorry. Um, mister E-Eduard –" He started to feel more embarrassed about his sudden lack of ability to speak directly. Luckily, Estonia was efficient at translating the tongue-tied language. Latvia must be a good practice partner.

"Did you want to speak to Raivis?"

"Yes! I mean…yes, please." Finally! Being polite over the phone was so time-consuming!

"I see. Unfortunately, he had to go to a meeting today. It is with his boss, so he could not skip it. Would you like me to take a message for him?"

Sealand's mood sank further. Great, he had probably just missed his friend. And bosses talked a lot, so he probably wouldn't be able to speak to Latvia until late tonight. _After_ he had faced his family. He sighed. "No, thank you."

"I will tell him to call you when he arrives back. Would you prefer a time?"

"N-No, mister Eston- mister Eduard. That's alright. He doesn't…well, I'm at Norway's other home, and I don't know the phone number."

"I think I saw your parents with cell phones last meeting. If it's important, Raivis can call their number. Is that alright?"

"No, mister Estonia, I mean, l-let's just forget it; I don't need to talk that badly." _I guess_. He was starting to feel pushed and overwhelmed. He regretted calling now. "Just forget about it. Sorry for bothering you." He hung up after further reassuring that yes, he was fine and no, it wasn't important. He guessed after living with mister Russia for so long, you learn to get a bit cautious and lot concerned with details. It made the game of "Twenty Questions" longer than it needed to be, though.

He turned toward the stairs, took a breath, and began descending. He had heard talking since he came out of the bathroom and pinpointed it to the living room. When he poked his head around the corner of the stairwell, he saw his family sitting in various places around the room – Sweden was standing next to Finland who was sitting in a small chair and Denmark was perched on the arm of the couch that the two brothers were sitting on. As Sealand watched, they all appeared to be in a bemused state. Satisfied with the mood in the room he steeled his resolve and ducked quickly into the room.

 _Like ripping off a Band-Aid_ , he told himself. His parents were the first to notice him.

"Peter. How are you feeling?" Finland asked with a polite smile. He seemed to be holding something back.

Sealand decided this was the time to apologize. "Uh, Mama. I just want to say...I'm sorry. For how I acted before. And for yelling at you in the store. And," he felt all of their stares on him now and he shifted uncomfortably, "I'm sorry for being mean to…to you, Mathias." He fell quiet and had to work up the courage to apologize to one last person. Even though the hurt was still too fresh, he would just have to suck it up in this uncomfortable setting. "And Emil. Sorry for…you know." He stared at the ground while silence reigned.

Iceland's voice came after a moment. "Yeah, well, 'M' sorry, too, I guess. I got frustrated and we were both hungry, so…just forget about it."

Sealand glanced up to where Iceland sat. Iceland had his arms crossed and was pointedly looking at a random point across the room. Sealand felt a tinge of amusement. Iceland didn't seem too comfortable with apologizing, either.

Beside him, Denmark smiled in his usual good humor. "Awww, it's all good, Sea! I know you didn't mean nothin' by it!"

Sealand felt better at this admission and felt his shoulders relax.

"You can just make it up to me when you get older – you remember what my favorite beer is, don't you? Hahaha!"

Sweden scowled at this while Finland smiled courteously. Norway mumbled about impolite Danes. Iceland stayed with arms crossed, Mr. Puffin perched above him on the couch since he flew in from the open kitchen door. Sealand felt more at peace now that the sole attention had been focused to the Dane. Finland turned to him.

"Apology accepted, Peter. I am just glad that you are feeling better. We have been so worried about you."

Peter didn't know how to respond to that except with another "I'm sorry".

Denmark shuffled more onto the couch arm, to Norway's disapproval. "We thought we might sit down and have a sort of…intervention."

"I-Intervention?" Sealand's mood said "so long" and promptly took a nice little dive off a metaphorical cliff.

"Not an intervention. Just a talk." Norway corrected with a warning look toward the nonchalant Dane.

"What are we going to talk about?"

"I think you know that answer," Finland gently replied, motioning to an empty chair. "Don't worry – you're not in trouble."

 _Then why does it feel like I am?_ Nonetheless, Sealand took the offered seat and sat on the edge of it with an uncomfortable air of a cornered animal. He felt hot again and now he knew he wouldn't be able to get out of this interrogation with excuses. But he couldn't tell the truth! Then, what should he do? He was getting really tired of asking that question so often. They wouldn't view him any better if he told the truth, so why bother? But whether he liked it or not he was brought up to abhor lying and he wasn't very good at it anyway. These thoughts swirled around as he waited for someone to begin this very unwanted conversation.

Finland cleared his throat.

"Peter," he coaxed, sending Sealand a compassionate look. "We have noticed a few prob- things different in your behavior lately. You're a kind boy and you're always very respectful to us, as your parents."

Sealand shifted uncomfortably in his seat as Finland continued.

"You've been a part of our family for a long while now. Though it was not through natural means, you travelled to live with us and we became as close as other parents and their children." He paused and took a breath. "Which is why I can tell when something is wrong, and it has been for a time now. We thought," he flicked a glance toward Sweden's position, "that you might come to us first – tell us what is wrong, what is on your mind, if anyone is bothering you. We thought it might be nothing at first, maybe you were having a fight with a friend, but," Finland paused to chew on his lip, looking nearly as uncomfortable as Sealand felt, but no less determined, "you've become more upset lately, and about everyday things." He looked Sealand in the eyes. "Please, will you tell us what is wrong?"

Sealand sat frozen, unable to tear his eyes away from Finland's. He was once again aware of how all eyes were on him and suddenly the room seemed smaller. The room began to heat and he felt trapped. All the people here were against what he wanted, what he wanted to do, what he wanted to be. He felt if he were to run now he would never hear the end of it and that would just confirm there was something wrong. But staying meant confirming the truth; confirming something he didn't want to hear. Not out loud. He didn't want that truth to pass the mouths of these people who he had taken care of him, and who had made him feel special and unique. He felt physically sick now. He wondered if he could at least go empty the contents of his stomach before this continued. He finally broke eye contact and directed his gaze to the floorboards, more relieved now that he could stare at something without it judging him.

Denmark sighed after a moment and stood from the couch arm. "This is getting too heavy." He strutted forward, coming to stop in front of Sealand.

Norway stood up as well. "Mathias –"

"What's wrong with you, Sea? Huh? Is it a person? Is someone bullying you? What."

"No," Sealand replied softly as he kept Denmark's midriff in his line of sight.

"Are you hurt?"

"No."

"Are you angry at us?"

"N-No." Sealand felt his eyes prickle. He didn't want to be questioned anymore. He placed his hands on the sides of the chair to get up only to have large hands close around them and hold him in place.

"I'm not finished yet," Denmark said, much closer now and in Sealand's personal space.

Sealand could barely see anyone else from around Denmark's body. He noticed Finland starting to get up to intervene but refrained from interfering due to a gesture from both Sweden and Norway. Sealand refocused on Denmark. He had no allies here.

"Mathias…"

"I'm not finished yet," Denmark repeated. "Are you upset at us? Did we do somethin' wrong?"

"No, you…you didn't do anything wrong. I'm fine. Everything's fine." He tried to flex his fingers under the Dane's grip as a sign to allow him up, but he was ignored. "I just want to get up. Let me up."

"No. Is it somethin' else? Are your leaders havin' problems financially?"

" _No_ , Mathias. Let me get up."

"Have your friends done something? Did ya' have a fight like we first thought?"

"No, Mathias! Let me up!" He started to struggle, debating whether to kick the Dane or not.

Denmark stayed. "No, we're goin' to solve this mystery once and for all and we're goin' to do it today. Tell us what the hell is goin' on with you."

"Nothing!"

"Then we're goin' to be here a while, aren't we, Sea?"

This sentence, said so very condescendingly but with a touch of concern and care, was enough to push the frustration and worry that Sealand had been feeling over the edge, and he began to kick Denmark's shins violently to avoid releasing the sobs that were building up.

"Let me up! Let me up! I want to get up! Stop being so close to me! Go _away_!" He continued to kick the person in front of him but it might as well have been a steel wall instead for Denmark never moved through Sealand's tantrum. Eventually, Sealand's energy ran out. He was emotionally exhausted and he just wanted to go back to his country and stay there. His emotions were screwed up and he didn't know if he was angry, embarrassed, sad, or just generally upset. His face suddenly felt cold – some tears had slipped out. Now he really felt embarrassed, to cry in front of everyone while they were watching – then his hands were free and they flew to his face, covering his eyes. He choked back a sob, ears burning from humiliation and face burning with tears. He felt Denmark's presence in front of him still. Without realizing, he voiced his opinion.

"You just don't understand. You don't know what it's like to be around everyone like this." He felt the presence in front of him leave to be replaced with a new one who came close to him but left him more space than the Dane.

"What is it like?" Norway.

"I-It's…it's hard. None of you get it and you're getting in my face about it." He tensed as he felt the urge to cry spring up but relaxed again slightly when it passed. "I'm tired. I'm tired of feeling like this. I don't want to be here. I don't want to think."

"What did we make you feel?"

"I…," He didn't know why he would tell anyone the truth, let alone Norway, whom he didn't know very well, but he felt compelled to tell him everything, like something was telling his subconscious that it was alright to tell the truth. "I don't feel…."

He couldn't. He couldn't do this.

He began to get up again, to be stopped with a gentle but firm hand. He looked up. Norway's face was calm, the same as it always was, but he never appreciated that calmness until now. Looking into the Norwegian's eyes, he felt a sense of composure come over him, and he began to view the scenery around them in almost a hypnotic way.

"What have you been feeling since you came here, Sealand?"

"I've been feeling…sad. And angry."

"Why."

"B-Because I don't belong."

"...With us?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"B-Because…."

"Because why?"

"Because! Because…I…"

He…

"I-I don't belong with the Nordics."

Silence. He felt multiple bodies fly up from their sitting positions and rush towards him. As a result, Sealand was snapped out of his hypnotic state at the same time the occupants in the room voiced their disagreement with his statement. Norway gave the wall opposite him one of the most annoyed looks he could muster.

"W-What! Peter, how could you think that?"

"Sea, who the hell told you that? Tell me who it was – I'll take care of 'em!"

"Where did you get such an idea!"

Sealand attempted to make himself smaller in his chair as these statements bombarded him like it was his fault he had spoken the truth. A hand falling on his shoulder caused him to look up, though he pretty much knew already that it belonged to Sweden. Sweden didn't say anything to him, but his eyes informed Sealand that they would be alright, and Sealand's mouth took this opportunity in all the confusion to ask something that had bothered him ever since he left England's home.

"Papa, why did you adopt me?"

Sweden studied him. They ignored the other occupants in the room that realized something else important was being discussed and began to quiet down. "Because we needed each oth'r."

Disappointment settled in Sealand's gut when nothing else was forthcoming, the only answer he got was simple but cliché. He was expecting something more, a greater reason that was designed just for him. "No we didn't. You guys never needed anyone but yourselves."

Finland cut Sweden off. "Of course we need you, Peter. We're a family. We wouldn't be complete."

"No, no, you would be complete. You were just fine before I came here. You're all "the Nordics" – you stick together, right?"

"What do you –"

"The Nordics," Peter began to gather his anger, finally relieved that he was on the offensive instead of the defensive, and he drew strength from it. "That's what everyone talks about, isn't it? The Nordics are always together. Countries who are strong and close, who have been through fights and wars and always come out of it just fine – countries whose names are Finland, Denmark, Sweden, Norway, and Iceland. There are no micronations in the Nordics." Sealand sighed and he met Sweden's eyes with a defeated air. "There is no "Sealand" in the Nordics."

He held Sweden's eyes while the others once again vehemently denied this being true. But Sealand was done for today. He broke through the throng of bodies and began to head up the stairs.

"Peter!"

He stopped and turned back, not wanting to deal with anyone else. He had snapped and now he didn't know what would come next. He just knew that he didn't want to be there at the moment. Finland was poised with one hand on the banister, debating whether he would be accepted if he were to ascend the stairs to Sealand.

"Peter, we love you. You _are_ one of us – please, let's just talk-!"

"No! I'm gonna' do what I want to do! And what I want to do right now is be away from all of you!" With that, he rushed to his room and slammed the door, clicking the lock into place and leaning against the door, sliding down it until his bottom hit the floor.

Finland's voice came gently from the other side. "Peter, I understand that you're very upset."

Sealand brought his legs to his chest and laid his head upon them.

"But we do care for you – we all do. You're our…you're our little one, and we don't care if you're a country, a human, a micronation, or someone else." Little paws came scratching worriedly at the door before being stopped by the speaker. "Who we accept as part of our family is no one else's business but ours." A pause. "I will see you later, okay? I just want you to know…we're all very proud of you, and we'll be waiting downstairs for whenever you're ready for us to show how much you're a part of the Nordics, too. …Sleep well."

Sealand felt rather than heard Finland pad softly down the hall. He sighed in his arms, wondering if he had either made everything better or everything worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I described to my co-author that I imagine Norway's magic is more clean and pure - like a cool breeze - as opposed to England's magic which we've usually seen him use it for curses, demonic summonings, and dark chants. Haha!


	8. Reflections and Decisions

Sitting on the floor had not appealed to Sealand's posterior and eventually he stood to get feeling back into his cramped body. There was a mini mirror on the small dresser moved against the wall. Glancing into its face revealed a tear-stained visage that made Sealand cringe and quickly set it down on its face. Nobody looked pleasant when they cried.

He stood in the middle of the room, not sure what to do and not sure what he felt. After he had fled here to his room in Norway's house, he had been given a moment to calm himself down (after having barricaded himself against the door). No one else had come up the stairs after Finland left. He was one hundred percent sure they were talking about him and how to handle it; if they would bother with the trouble of keeping him, or save the headache of taking care of someone so emotional and weak and just dropping him off at Arthur's place, or at his fort, or anywhere else. No, he didn't want to think of this yet; he was emotionally drained and his eyes and sinuses ached. Sealand walked over to the bed, stared at it unseeing, and flopped upon it face-first. As an added measure, he let out a long heartfelt groan. It didn't release him from his inner turmoil but it did make him feel better on a small level.

Sighing, he turned his face to the side when he could no longer breathe well through the fabric beneath his face. What to do… he had asked that question earlier today and he still didn't know the answer to it. Now the truth had come out. In a way, he felt almost relieved that he no longer had to hide it beneath anger that hurt his family. He just wished that it didn't cost him so much to reveal it.

The sound of a something sliding across the floor caught his attention and he sat up to see that there was now a sheet of paper on the floor in front of the door. Feeling mixtures of apprehension, irritation, and bemusement, he silently slid off the bed and walked over to pick it up. There was a short message on the page.

 _Peter,  
_ _Betre å vite rett enn å håpe feil.  
Better know rightly than hope wrongly.  
_ __  
Have a good night.

Sealand blinked in confusion and turned the paper over, found nothing on the back, and turned it back to study the script. What language was this…? And, for that matter, who wrote it? He sighed again but couldn't bring himself to drop the paper and instead folded it up and put it in his pocket. He didn't need to "know rightly", he'd already figured it out. Really, all the note did was aggravate him with its know-it-all text. The neat, looping penmanship suggested it wasn't Denmark. Norway probably wrote it. Or Iceland. They didn't understand his need for solitude, he supposed, and had to send him one last message for the day "to help". Sealand blinked slowly to dispel the irritation he felt at such an unwanted message amongst all the chaos in his head. Successfully putting it out of his mind, he glanced towards the window which now showed the day growing darker, with the sky a hue of orange colors that normally Sealand would appreciate on a better day.

The sound of footsteps ascending the stairs caught his attention. He held his breath as they approached his door. Then stopped in front of it. He suddenly felt trapped and wished he were brave and reckless enough to climb out of the second story window. Before he could act upon the decision to play "I'm-not-answering-because-I'm-asleep", the person outside moved away from his door and continued to one of the rooms located across the hall. The sound of a door closing softly made him sigh in relief, but left a pang of guilt in his heart for ignoring the Nordics who were his family at one time (he didn't know how they viewed him now, given the circumstances). Sealand knew he was avoiding them obviously, knew he was being a coward for not facing his family and accepting any verdict they would give to him. He just…he just couldn't hear it right now. Wished – hoped – he wouldn't have to. He fell back on the childish act of purposely avoiding the truth; if he didn't hear it, it would be like this situation never existed. He knew his parents wouldn't like this way of doing things – knew his papa wouldn't want him to hide from his problems. But…this was different. It was different.

Falling back slightly against the door, he listened for other feet – for the sounds of others heading off to bed. Though it was fairly early still, the day must've drained them as much as it did him. After a while, maybe an hour or two – he sorta spaced out for a little bit – the sounds of the house's occupants getting settled for the night finally ceased. Sealand waited for a few more minutes, enjoying the feeling of the cool wood of the door against his back, before quietly and cautiously cracking the door open to peek out. Seeing no one ready to interrogate or corner him, he opened it wide enough for him to step out, gathering courage from the empty hallway. Despite not having had dinner, he still wasn't hungry. Rather, he wanted some time out of that room – some time to think and not worry about being harassed or snuck upon by anyone. Tiptoeing down the stairs and avoiding which steps he knew would creak and possibly wake the others was easy enough. He and Denmark used to sneak down these stairs at night together to raid the fridge for late-night sweets, memorizing which steps would give them away. Until Norway caught them once and banished them forever from entering the kitchen during the nighttime. Sealand had a feeling that Denmark still tried to.

Looking cautiously into the dark room almost gave Sealand goosebumps from how eerily silent the normally loud and vibrant room was. Dismissing it, he continued on, passing the kitchen doorway. The moon shone unusually bright outside, lighting nearly the entire kitchen, and he paused to view the glowing forest beyond the Norwegian's property. It was beautiful, Sealand would admit. The moonlight casting its glow upon the ground, the kitchen counters, the utensils, the floor…. Throwing caution to the wind, he lightly opened the kitchen door leading to the patio outside and stepped out. The air was chilly and usually he would never be caught dead outside in the cold. But the cold air ensured that he would remain unbothered and Sealand desired solitude for his thoughts.

He took a seat on a chair located on the far side of the trimmed grass. From his position he could face the house and make sure no one would sneak up on him. He knew he was acting a bit paranoid but given that he felt like a cornered animal since he came here he felt he deserved a bit of _bloody peace and quiet!_

A bit surprised at the angry inner yell, Sealand sighed in an effort to get his thoughts straight. So they all knew. What would they do now? He'd been such a nuisance lately he wholeheartedly expected them to ship him off at any minute. At this thought he began to jiggle his knee up and down with a nervous energy. It…this situation…it was spiraling down so fast! Too fast! What to _do_? He didn't want to leave.

He didn't want to leave.

But he also didn't want to wait until they're standing in front of him with pity in their eyes as they tell him that he's going back "home". "Home" meaning his fort and not the house he had been living in with his family for years now. He sighed in misery as he hunched forward, his arms curling around his body as the chill began to seep through his clothes. His intuition told him that the Nordics would confront him tomorrow no matter what he did. Even if he barricaded himself in that room again Denmark had never needed much reason to break down a door. Norway's permission would be good enough. And he would give it. Sealand felt rushed and he swung his head up to look at the sky as if it was already dawning. But, no, the night continued to stay.

It didn't decrease Sealand's sense of urgency.

Call him a coward, he didn't want to face the others. Not after so soon. He needed…he needed….

… _Time…._

Time! Yes, he needed time! Yes! He needed space to sort out his feelings, his thoughts, his beliefs. And his future. Despite how many agonizing moments he'd spent in thought, he never had very long to consider everything since that fateful day outside the meeting without someone approaching and interrupting his process. He needed more space. He needed to be away from all this _stress_! Any more and he might explode! He was tired of crying and worrying. He was tired of trying to please the Nordics and he was tired of going to bed wondering if tomorrow would be the last day he could stay in his parents' house. He was mentally and emotionally exhausted, even before this horrible trip.

" _Have a good night_ _._ "

Sealand looked up at the night sky, its expanse bigger than any nation could ever hope to be, its onyx face gazing back at him with no expectations. Sealand stood. He had made a decision.

* * *

 

When the Nordics got up for bed in the morning, it was once again a rather quiet event, given that one seat empty at the table would not evade their eyesight. It was a reminder of what they'd lost. But they would make it right. Today, hopefully.

After much deliberation, it was suggested that the one closest in age (Iceland) and not in mind (Denmark), would ascend to try to tease the youngest out of the locked room.

It was not until the worry for the occupant inside took over the regard for Sealand's privacy that the Nordics discovered an empty room with nothing but an innocent piece of paper, a message, tucked under the clock on the nightstand.

* * *

 

Sealand felt nothing but elation and guilt as he entered the new country. It took him all night after the very late call he had made to his boss about a secret and quick plane ticket. He only wished he could've brought Hanatamago but she had been sleeping in Sweden's room and there was no way Sealand would risk opening that door. Well, okay, he wished he could've done a lot of things – say a proper goodbye, for one, and make sure they wouldn't freak out over his absence, if they did. But he couldn't – didn't want to – face them. Maybe in a few days or whatever. Maybe.

As he continued his intended journey, he breathed in the crisp air of the city. He hadn't been here in a while and it brought back a sense of familiarity. This, coupled with the delight of being free from The Stress and the boyish giddiness of having done something naughty and gotten away with it, gave him a boost of extra hyperactivity propelling him forward. Hailing a taxi only took about ten minutes more than last time he motioned for one – taxi drivers usually went for the people who looked like they could pay them, namely adults. Arriving at the house of his target, he paid the taxi the expected sum he'd gotten both from allowances and from his boss. With a grin on his face, he bounded up the steps, knocked furiously on the door, then awaited the arrival of the occupant whom he'd be staying with for a little while. He didn't have to wait long.

The door opened, revealing the owner of the house to be in a state of confusion over Sealand's unexpected appearance.

"…Peter?"


	9. Relaxations and Deceit

The door opened, revealing the owner of the house to be in a state of confusion over Sealand's unexpected appearance.

"…Peter?"

Sealand's beamed wider. "Hi, Jerk~! Didja' miss me?"

England blinked, furrowed his brow, then sighed in frustration and rubbed the bridge of his nose to gather his thoughts. He was honestly at a loss for words…which wasn't all that surprising given who he was always surrounded by at the Meetings. Ignoring the beaming imp in front of him, he stepped slightly out of the doorway to look for the boy's usual entourage. But there were no extra cars nor any adoptive parents in sight. Turning his attention back to his headache, he lifted an eyebrow.

" _How_ did you get here?"

Sealand bounced on his toes at being addressed finally – still brimming with energy. "I took a taxi. And a plane before that. …And another taxi before that –"

"I think I meant, 'Where are your parents?'"

"Still visiting Nor- Lukas. I wanted to come back here, so they let me come ahead!" It was best to tell a half-truth; Sealand was a bad liar, anyway and England had always been able to see through his out-right lies.

England looked skeptical despite his half-true answer. "And you wanted to just visit me out of the goodness of your angelic little heart."

Sealand didn't even try to justify that one as he walked past England into his house. "Psh! No. I wanted to go back to MY country. But I need you to rent me a boat to take me there…." Here he looked up at England with a pleasant smile and wide eyes.

England snorted and pushed the door closed. "Have you contacted your 'boss' yet? I'm sure they can cover your expenses with their 'economy'."

Sealand really wished sometimes he could clock that bushy brow, but he had long became used to England's opinion of his independency, so it didn't faze him…too much.

"He's busy," he said with a pout that informed England he was being unreasonable.

England sighed and walked past Sealand, heading for his abandoned teacup. "Fine, fine. When do you want to go? Now?"

"Um…no. Not yet. Tomorrow?" He said, shuffling a bit nervously.

"Then I suppose you expect to stay here."

"Yes!" came the cheery reply.

An exasperated huff. "You need to call ahead of time for these types of things! What if I had been out? Or in another country? You would have been waiting for days and then where would you be?"

"Uh…outside?"

"Outside and alone and…and _dead_."

"I think that's an overstatement."

"It is not; it is cold outside at night and you would freeze. Then your parents would blame me for _your_ irresponsibility. Think ahead of time from now on."

Sealand had been thinking ahead of time. He had timed it so he would be out of the country of Norway and in England before the others found out about his disappearance. Upon arriving so suddenly and bare, England would have no choice but to invite him in for a while. Sometimes Sealand surprised himself with his cunning. He felt his face turn into a self-satisfied smirk. Awesome Detective Sealand. It had a nice ring. Gilbert would be jealous but _he_ could be the sidekick for once! Sealand cackled evilly inside his head as his smirk grew on the outside. England, seeing this, misinterpreted.

"Do you find this situation humorous?"

Sealand popped out of his thoughts. "Huh? No. I was, um, thinking about something else…."

"I see." England stooped to pick up the paper he had been reading before Sealand's knock. He paused, however, and glanced back at the fort as his hospitable side kicked in. "Do you need anything? Have you eaten yet?"

Sealand, taken aback at this more amiable tone coming from his brother, answered. "Um…no, not really. I'm really tired, though." He had slept on the plane but seeing as how the time difference between England and Norway was only by one hour…it wasn't a very long flight. Not. At. All.

England straightened and headed for the kitchen. "Then you can eat first and take a nap afterwards. Seeing as you're already here, I might as well change my list of things to do to babysitting," he said with a slight sarcasm to his voice that under-shadowed his enthusiastic step which only those who've lived with the grumpy but sophisticated nation would be able to see.

Sealand stared after England with a confused look on his face. What was he so excited about? He'd done nothing but complain since Sealand got here. He shrugged – the jerk was always weird and hard to figure out – and followed the elder occupant into the kitchen where England was seen already attempting to cook something on the stove. Pretty purple smoke drifted up from the future concoction. Sealand gazed at it while letting his mind relish in the freedom of not thinking of anything depressing.

Then it hit him. What was he doing just standing here! When one lived with England's food for years one grows accustomed to it. But when one leaves and is spoiled by other palates _one does not return to England's foods_! Sealand's body would not be able to handle it anymore! Well, maybe it could, he _was_ a steel fort after all, but what if it _couldn't_! He'd seen what it did to other countries, those poor souls. Maybe he should leave while he could. Upstairs. He didn't want to go to his country just yet, he wanted to be around some other country like him; someone who wasn't a Nordic. Just for a little while. He backed quietly out of the kitchen and silently trekked down the hallway to his old room (converted to a simple spare guest room upon his permanent departure). Opening the door and sliding through the crack brought him to face the room he used to call his. Well, in his mind he still called it his. Plenty of his old toys and drawings from when he had been smaller had been moved to England's storage room in the basement. Though a lot of him had been moved from the room there were still faint wisps of his habitance – the faint marks on the bottom part of the far wall from the wacky time he thought he could dig a neat underground tunnel to the outside with a fork (because it had better edges in which to dig into the dirt). Luckily he had hid the marks on the clean wall well enough to avoid the obvious strapping he would receive had they been uncovered. There were other examples of evidence but he was too tired to waste time looking around, reminiscing. Trudging over to the bed, Sealand plopped onto it, sighing pleasantly at its cool feeling. Remembering the fate that awaited him should he be caught awake was enough incentive to scramble under the covers and close his tired eyes. Faking sleep was not necessary as he drifted off into slumber almost immediately.

* * *

 

Waking up a few hours later still left him feeling groggy despite the nap. Why did you always feel worse when you took a nap? It was like your body wanted all eight hours of sleep or none at all. His stomach was trying to kill itself, though, so he reluctantly got up from the comfy bed, stretching his muscles awake as he did. He wiped the sleep from his eyes as he walked down the hall. It was rather quiet in the lovely, quaint home England owned outside of London, but that was to be expected. The country wasn't exactly known for being rowdy. Well, at least not on his own. His jerk brother sure liked to yell. It was a wonder he and Mr. Germany never became the best of friends, but, Sealand guessed, two guys who yelled as much as they did needed someone to yell _towards_. For Mr. Germany it was Italy (and his brother, Prussia). For England it was…erm…America, France, Mr. Russia, Italy, Mr. Southern Italy, Mr. Spain, Mr. Australia, and Sealand himself. His brother did like to win at things. Sealand guessed having more people to yell at than others constituted as "winning". Thinking this led him to chuckle loudly as he entered the front parlor.

England looked up from his embroidering. "Feeling better, I presume."

Sealand couldn't keep the amused smile from his face as he changed direction towards the nation, taking a seat near the sitting man. He felt lighthearted.

"Yes, a bit. I was just thinking of how much you and Mr. Germany were alike."

"What! How in the world do you figure something like that?"

Sealand almost gave England an "are-you-serious" look but he'd done that once and almost gotten grounded for it due to it being quite similar to the "are-you-stupid" look. Instead he just let go of the conversation and switched to a different topic.

"So…."

England answered from his embroidery, "So."

"U-um…so…."

"Peter, if you do not know how to phrase something sort it out in your mind first." After a moment of silence England glanced up, nonchalantly placed his hobby aside, and gave Sealand his undivided attention. "Is there something you want to discuss?"

"Um, no, I just wanted to know i-if we were going to do anything? Like, fun, today?" He said as his eyes slowly drifted away from England's eyes. It was weird that he would act this shy with the Jerk. Wasn't he usually just as loud? He felt nervous, the kind of nervousness one feels when they meet a stranger whom you are to spend a lot of time with or a family member whom you do not know very well. But Sealand knew England very well, so this behavior was a mystery to him.

England frowned in confusion as he studied Sealand with a slightly concerned brotherly (or paternal) eye. "Hmmm…well, I really have nothing scheduled for today –"

_Even though you made a big deal of me "changing your schedule"?_

" – so I suppose I'm free. What did you have in mind?"

As Sealand opened his mouth his stomach chose at that moment to interrupt him with a noisy rumble. "Food first! Be right back!" With that, he zoomed into the kitchen, pointedly ignoring the information from England that he had saved the food he cooked earlier and further ignoring said "food" when he opened the refrigerator. Choosing something he knew he could make himself, he chose a sandwich composed of turkey, ham, lettuce, and any other delectable condiments and meat he could fit into it.

After having his stomach satisfied after hours of being denied sustenance he felt better and less disorganized. Telling England he wanted to spend time at the park was easily enough believed. Really, Sealand just wanted to spend time with another nation but he figured if he told the Jerk this it would only cause questions on why Sealand chose him and not someone more fun (England would say "spontaneous" or "reckless") like America. But Sealand was drawn to a need for familiarity and living with a person for years upon years of your life didn't get more familiar than that. It was just as well for the youngest they left when they did for as soon as the door was closed and the stairs were descended did the phone ring with a very concerned Finland on the other end.

* * *

 

Playing with children in the park usually left him victorious in most games due to his unnatural stamina and energy as a personification but left him almost as tired as any child after a hard day of playing. It was evening now, about six o'clock. Riding in England's car, his head against the window, Sealand stared aimlessly at the passing scenery, relishing in the memories of days when he could spend time with Arthur and not worry about any future ridicule for his dreams. He was feeling content and sighed quietly. Arriving back at his home, Arthur announced Sealand could play the gaming device America had left after his last visit but _only_ for an hour, after that he had to spend his time more conductively. Sealand kept his mouth shut that an hour of gaming was hardly any time at all and that at the Nordics' homes he could've played for much longer.

As England headed to his room to remove some of his more stuffy outer wear, Sealand took a trip to the kitchen to get a drink of water. As he turned to lean against the counter he noticed a blinking red light on the phone attached to the wall and lowered his glass. England had messages on his answering machine. How curious. Well, it wouldn't hurt to check from who the messages were, right? Maybe he would get to hear America or someone say something embarrassing about England or…or maybe it would be the Queen herself on the line! Grinning he raced over to the phone and slapped the message button.

_"You have two new messages. First message:"_

What came out next was not what he expected.

 _"Arthur –"_ Finland's voice came out with suppressed worry, _"would you please give me a call when you get the chance? I would like to…ask you something about Peter. Thank you."_

 _"CLICK! Second message: '_ Hej, _Arthur.'"_ Now Sweden-! "' _Pet'r has r'n off. It's lik'ly he's near y'. Will y' call when y' get th's message? Good bye.'_ _CLICK! BEEP! You have no new messages. Would you like to erase old messages?"_

Peter swallowed. He should've known the note he left would not be enough o pacify them. At least they didn't seem to be doing something more drastic, like start hassling bosses or something. His note did inform them that he was going to someone trusted and he would be safe. …He supposed he would have to call them to stop them from worrying completely.

 _And to stop them from employing other countries to interfere_.

Feeling every ounce of irritation, apprehension, and guilt as he did it, he shakily pressed the "yes" button on the machine.

_"BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! Messages erased. You have no more messages."_

Sighing in guilt, he peeked out of the kitchen door. England's doorway appeared to be shut and was far enough from the kitchen not to have heard the noisy answering machine. Sealand was almost tempted to do something drastic like cut the phone line like a secret agent to avoid Arthur from sending him back once he got word of what happened. But, no. The country had been through World Wars and had participated in them himself; he would notice something like that. Sealand sighed petulantly and turned to leave, thought better of it, and turned back to the phone. He dialed a random set of numbers, pressed "call", then left the phone on the kitchen counter to contact the nonexistent number. There. Now although England's phone bill might go up, no one could call the home if the phone was "busy". It was okay. The jerk had enough money to pay for a little expensive phone bill.

Tomorrow, he would have to leave, though. The Nordics were looking for him and, despite what humans thought, the world was a rather small place, particularly if you were a personification. He would be safe from others at his fort, it was his home turf after all and he could deny entry to others. But not to his friends. Latvia and Wy and Seborga could come and visit. And _maybe_ TRNC could come, but only so Sealand could show him how majestic _Sealand_ was!

Realizing this was a perfect time to call his friend Latvia now (if he wasn't stuck in another meeting), he raced to England's room and cheerfully beat obnoxiously on the door (pushing any apprehension out of his mind).

"What! Stop that beating! Are you a wild animal!"

"I want to borrow your cell phone, Jerk~!"

"You will speak to me appropriately or you will not get anything!"

"Fine. Please, may I borrow, please, your cell phone, please, Lord Jerk, please?"

The door opened violently, revealing an indignant elder country in a loose collar shirt. "Peter!"

"Hahaha! Why do you always get angry so easily? May I borrow your cell phone? Hmm?" Sealand asked as he consented to please England this once but ruined the contrite look by tapping his foot loudly and impatiently.

England grit his teeth comically at Sealand's display of manners, or lack of. "You're so cheeky! Just who have you been cavorting with to be so rude to your elders," he asked as he began to reach into his back pocket for his cell phone.

"I didn't know asking for a cell phone was rude."

"That's it! You get nothing! You hear me – nothing!"

"No, wait!"

"Fend for yourself!"

* * *

 

Getting the cell phone of an offended Englishman took more groveling than Sealand thought but he persevered and won! Now to call Latvia's number and see if he would answer today.

Feeling a sense of _déjà vu_ , he waited for the voice of one of his best friends.

" _S-Sveiki?_ "

Sealand grinned at hearing the customary answer he'd became so used to hearing.

"Raivis! Hey, mate! It seems like it's been forever."

"O-Oh, Peter? Yes, it's been a while. About three months or so, right? H-How have you been?"

 _Terrible_. "I've been pretty well. I tried to call you earlier but Est- um…." Blast! He couldn't remember Estonia's human name now.

"Um…do you mean Eduard?"

"Yes! He answered and said you were busy then."

"Oh, yes, I was. He told me you called after I got back from my meeting, b-but when I called Finland's cell phone, he said you couldn't talk at that moment."

"…When was that?"

"Yesterday evening."

Oh. That was after the interrogation they had in the living room. Which was yesterday. Gosh, it seemed like weeks had passed since then!

"O-Oh."

"…Peter."

"Hm? What is it?"

"Is everything really alright…? Your parents called me a little while ago and they seemed to be looking for you – like you were missing. Y-You're not missing, are you?"

"…"

"O-Or, no, I phrased that wrong. You didn't run away, did you?"

"Uh…" He felt himself start to heat up in nervousness in response to his friend's obvious worry.

Latvia's voice took on an edge of panic. "Peter, please tell me you didn't run away to…to some strange place or something."

"Huh! Where do you think I went! I just went to my brother's house!"

"Oh…! Good."

"Where are _you_ thinking?"

"I-It's not important. So you did run away? Do your parents know where you are?"

Peter couldn't stop his voice from hardening in suspicion. "Yeah, I ran away and they don't know where I am right now."

Latvia paused at the tone. "I won't tell them, if that's what you want. B-But I think _you_ should. They sounded really worried."

"I will. I'll call them when I get to my country."

"Finland sounded scared."

"I said I'll call them!" Guilt made his voice rise in defense. After a moment of silence, he realized he'd been taking his guilt out on his friend much similar to how he treated Denmark and Finland in Oslo. "Sorry, Raivis. It's just…I've been…" he paused to take a calming breath, "…I've been having to face some problems. It's been…hard."

The other line was silent in response to the heavy confession. "Oh, I'm sorry, Peter. I've been so busy lately – I just thought you were as well when you didn't call as often as normal. I guess if I was a better friend, I would have called you first; I'm always taking calls instead of making them…."

Sealand winced. The self-depreciating tone from his selfless, patient friend was tough to hear.

"No, mate, you did nothing wrong. You're right, I have been busy. And you have to meet with your leaders, yeah? Let's just leave it at that," he hurried to say, not wanting to hear anymore sadness on the other end.

Latvia's voice took on a note of relief. "Okay. Um, so, do you want to talk about the hard stuff? I promise I'll listen – I don't have anymore meetings today."

Sealand recognized his friend still felt guilty over his unavailability and was trying to make up for it. Sealand felt appreciation to have such a good friend, but he didn't want to talk anymore about his problems. So he changed the subject.

They chatted amiably for a long while, spending hours catching up on any gossip, news, or plans that they had missed apart from each other. There was one scary moment in which England's cell phone got a call from Finland's cell phone during their conversation and Sealand nervously let it go to "Missed Calls". One more thing he'd have to delete. He was starting to feel less like a secret agent and more like a thief or cheater. Tying up his call and "list of things to do", Sealand returned the device to England cautiously. Short of destroying the little machine, there was no reason he could think to stop England from receiving calls from the Nordics. Sometimes mobile technology was a blessing. And sometimes it was a downright menace.

Regardless, he was ready and willing to go back to his fort. It would be nice to be back at his first home. …Whether it became his only home was a matter of time and opinion.

After escaping dinner by claiming he had sneaked a portion of food while England wasn't looking, Sealand relaxed in the living room while staring aimlessly at the television. There was nothing on he wanted to watch, so he allowed his eyes to rest on the switching colors of a program which he didn't know the name, lost in his wandering thoughts. A few minutes later England walked in from eating his dinner and sat heavily beside Sealand on the couch. The two sat in silence.

Finally, England sniffed and turned his gaze to Sealand. "What's the matter with you?"

Sealand almost huffed in annoyance. How did people keep noticing these things about him? Was he acting that weirdly? "Nothing. What's the matter with you?" Ha! Countered.

England's eyes narrowed. "Don't turn this on me – you've been almost proper since you arrived. Not only that but you've been clinging to me like America does with ice cream; usually you can't wait to get away from me."

"And I _can't_ wait to get away from you – you're bothering me during one of my country's favorite shows. Go away now." He waved his hand dismissively as England turned to look at the television.

"Your country's favorite show is ' _Coronation Street_ '?"

Sealand's eyes popped open as he actually began to pay attention to what was on. The soap opera appeared to have been on for some time now. He never noticed, but then again he didn't care for all these dramatic dumb adult shows. All they showed was people kissing and telling lies and…oh my. What was that gentleman doing…? The television suddenly flashed and went black.

"Well! Looks like it's time for bed! Hahaha!" Nervous laughter beside him as his eyes followed the arm holding the remote to his brother.

"Bed? But it's only eight-"

"Bed, Peter!"

"But I'm over fifty years old!"

"And I'm older!"

"Yeah, you are. Ancient."

"Shut your mouth. Go on now," he replied, waving his hand in the same manner as Sealand before.

Sealand verbalized his disagreement with disgruntled sounds as he reluctantly stood up. "Can I at least play video games?"

"No, what part of 'bed' did you miss?"

"But you're only sending me to bed because you're embarrassed you produce TV shows that would make France blush!"

Though Sealand really was annoyed with being sent to his room like a child and not allowed to stand up for himself for fear of punishment…he had to admit, the face England made just then was hilariously priceless.

"H-How could you say that! I am _not_ _worse_ than _that_ frog! And don't you ever think otherwise! Just the mere thought…! Bed, now!"

"Ugh! Fine." Sealand consented but only because England's reaction to being called worse than France was humorous. He left the living room with a feeling of accomplishment, England's mutterings drifting behind him as the nation continued to rant and defend himself to a seemingly empty room. But that went better than Sealand thought! He hadn't even meant to distract England from his line of questioning. A good thing for Sealand, then, that the jerk was so easily drawn into arguments. Especially if it concerned France. Now at least he could be worry-free from questions or phone calls for the rest of night as he was just "sent to bed". Ha! Awesome Detective Sealand strikes again! And tomorrow he would get on the boat to the fort and reach the end of his mini-journey.

Feeling better than he had in days, he dived into the covers of the guest bedroom and snuggled down. He was feeling a little tired so maybe he could just rest his eyes. For once, it had been almost fun around the jerk today. Maybe Sealand caught him on a good day. He closed his eyes to rest them but soon, as it usually happens, fell deeper into the world of dreams.


	10. Return to the Country

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I got the specifics of Sealand's system correct - all I could find were a few schematics and maps online.

The windy, cool air of the port could not feel more welcome against Sealand's skin. The sights of the boats tethered further down the docks only made him more glad to be here. Finally! He'd be worry-free when he reached his own country. Well...maybe not, but he'd at least have less to worry about – like his brother forcing him back to the Nordics. He looked to his left. Further away but still within yelling distance was England speaking to the captain of the fishing boat which would transport Sealand to his place. The jerk had complained and snarked the whole way here but at least he was doing what Sealand had asked of him. Which was weird in the first place but Sealand wasn't going to "look a gift horse in the mouth" and jinx his good luck so far.

He turned back to the waiting sea and took a breath of faintly-salty air.

Motion caught his eye as England made his way over.

"Well, everything's set. The captain's ready to sail in ten minutes, so it's best if you get on now," he informed, stuffing a few currency notes into his pocket. "Can't believe I have to pay someone off like that again."

Sealand watched him stuff the money back into his pocket, switched to watch the scraggly captain walk to his boat, then back to his brother. "He's not gonna throw me overboard as soon as we set sail, is he?"

England stopped his grumbling to look at him in indignation. "What? Of course not! He's trustworthy – he wouldn't throw a child overboard!"

Sealand pointedly ignored the mention of his "age". "Uh-huh…."

England huffed and glanced at his watch. "Your fort –"

"Country!"

" – is completely out of his way. It's only courteous to pay someone for their trouble on your behalf." He straightened his jacket almost reflexively.

Sealand gave him a weird look. "Why are you so twitchy?"

"'M'not twitchy!"

"Well, stop it!"

"Don't tell me what to do – I'm your senior! …And it's nothing, I just haven't been to the docks in a while. It's nostalgic." England turned to look at the waters behind the wall of boats and sails.

"Um…you could always go sailing again, couldn't you?"

England snorted and slid his eyes to Sealand dismissingly. "Unfortunately, being a _world-recognized_ country doesn't leave one with a lot of 'free time'."

"…God, but you're an ass."

" _What_ did you just say to me!"

"Nuthin'! I said you're…class. You're classy. No wonder you have no free time – you're so important and everything!" He desperately tried to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. He must've succeeded because his brother merely looked at his watch again.

"Almost time."

Sealand nodded and fiddled with his ever-present hat. Should this be the moment where he thanked the jerk? Or…hugged him or something? He always gave Sealand what he asked for even if the jerk wasn't too nice about it. But they had never been as close as other brothers were, or at least Sealand didn't think they were. He lifted his eyes with indecision just as a cell phone ring pierced the air.

England dug in his other pocket and looked at the caller identification. "Huh. That must be Tino's number."

Sealand's heart rate spiked faster than the blink of an eye as he stared with shock at the cell phone's ascent to England's ear. Tino. Finland. Now? No, it was too soon! He wasn't even on the boat right now! He still had a few minutes left! If he ran for it, England could figure out the situation in time to stop the captain before he even made it out of the country. His breathing accelerated and, as his brain had stilled with panic, his body did the only thing it could.

England had just enough to time to say "Hello?" before a sudden force sent the cell phone flying out of his hand and skidding across the ground. He couldn't even gather enough thought to figure out what happened before Sealand ran past him with a hurried, "Sorry! Spasm! I'll get it!"

Sealand ran to the cell phone, now with new scratches. He resisted the urge to stomp on it. Looking at the ticking time on the screen he realized it was still connected. Tentatively and careful not to say anything, he put the phone's speaker to his ear.

" –ou there? Arthur? Is everything alright? Did you get my messages before? Arthur? Hello?"

It was hard to hear Finland's voice. Especially so worried. He didn't want to cause this, he just wanted to be the one to leave first. To get some fresh air – some space. To have time to figure out what he would do now, without the fear of "what will I screw up today" or "how will one of us get hurt this time" in his head.

But the voice was becoming more despondent every second that passed in silence.

"A-Ah…." Bugger! He hadn't meant to open his mouth like that!

"…Peter? Are you there?"

"…"

"Peter! Is that you? Where are you! Please-!"

"S-Sorry. I-I gotta go now."

"Pe-!"

Sealand hurriedly ended the call. His throat felt tight. He had never heard his Mama Finland sound like that; it was disconcerting and made him feel so, so guilty for causing it. But-! But they were going to tire of him, he just left first! He wasn't part of their Nordic family – if he was, he'd have been included long before now. He just…

He just left _first_.

A boat sounding its horn made him jump at the same time the cell phone rang again. He turned the phone off as England called out to him.

"They're leaving now, Peter! Get going!"

"O-Okay!" He shakily made his way back to England in a hurry, deftly pulling out the phone's battery in hopes of giving him more time to reach his country. He slipped the phone quickly into England's pocket while ignoring the waiting hand. "It was just M-Momma Finland wanting to know if I had made it there yet! I already talked to him, so no need to call him back – he's very busy right now. Papa, too," he babbled before England could ask about the call. He got a strange look for his behavior but had no time to offer more excuses as he ran to the boat about to leave him. The captain spared him a searching glance before ordering for their departure.

Sealand went to stand at the front of the boat (the bow, his mind supplied) and looked at his brother as they set sail. England met his eyes and they stared at each other before England put on a scowl and made a show of halfheartedly waving at the imp that grated on his nerves so very much. Sealand smirked and cheekily waved back, leaning dangerously on the safety rails till they were out of sight just to irritate the jerk.

* * *

 

The trip to Fort Roughs was uneventful and actually quite boring. Sealand had stayed near the bow of the boat, preferring to keep to himself (as did the other seamen, he guessed). He normally was more social than this, especially with people who also loved or at least knew the sea, but his stomach had that "butterfly feeling" now that he'd had time to reflect on his actions. He'd talked to Finland – the first time since he ran away. Nothing important was said, nothing hurtful or shocking either. Still, he could not stop the sensation in his stomach that felt like he had Prussia's little bird fluttering inside.

He looked up finally as the boat began to pull near the fort that held his being and made an effort to push the sensation out of his mind. He probably looked desperate what with practically throwing himself off of the boat as soon as it was close enough to the lowered pulley system, but Sealand could care less about his appearance right now. He would only feel _right_ once he finally stepped on to his country. Holding tightly to the pulleys which were usually used to raise or lower boats stationed on Sealand (mainly the lifeboats), he casually waved to the awed and confused crew who had served as his transportation as he ascended towards his country. Sure, he could have taken a helicopter to his country but he liked arriving this way (after informing his people that he didn't need to ride a landing float up, he'd just hold onto the pulley straps). It gave him time to gaze at the beauty of the waters surrounding _him_ ; reminded him of all his dreams and all the things he wished to accomplish for his country and his people in the future.

It also helped that riding the pulley system was a _hell_ of a lot of _fun_!

Stepping onto his country for the first time in months, a sense of completeness rushed into him. He felt…whole. As some of his citizens hurried to greet him and whisk him safely away from the edge of the fort, he came to the realization that he _missed_ this. He missed being greeted by his citizens, by people he knew and who knew him. He didn't need a million people who he couldn't keep track of, no, all he needed was the few he had gotten to know, even if some of them didn't live here physically in the Principality of Sealand. Even those who staked claims to his titles online he valued. It didn't matter if the others laughed at his boss for selling titles online for people who may or may not care for him – they were still _his_ citizens and that was all he cared about!

One of the workers on duty informed him that while his boss could not greet him in person, he and his family wished Sealand a welcome return home.

Home. Well, Sealand still didn't know how he felt about that, but it was certainly nice to return to himself for a change. He already felt better in all aspects. For the next few hours all he wanted to do was walk around his country again. It had been too long.

* * *

 

He supposed it was too simple to think the world had forgotten about him for a while. Peace and personal time was something hard to find when one was a country, even a principality. A few hours after landing back on the principality and he may already have company. He leaned tensely on the rails of his first home as he held the old-fashioned telescope to his eye. There was a decent-sized boat approaching the fort at a speedy pace. He frowned.

After making sure that the Principality of Sealand was in tip-top shape (he would have known even if he had not looked for physical evidence), he had made calls to his boss to ensure that incoming vessels from the countries of Finland, Sweden, Denmark, Norway, and Iceland would be "dissuaded" from approaching Sealand. Taking it a step further, he made sure that any vessel approaching Sealand would have to be pre-approved by himself before any crew set foot on the fort. His boss had been skeptical and more than a little disgruntled but Sealand assured him that he wouldn't ban any vessels seeking help or trade. Sealand also had to spend a couple more minutes assuring his boss that there was no trouble brewing with other countries, his fault or otherwise. It was just a personal problem he could take care of himself. Which was true, of course. Sealand could handle any confrontations with the Nordics now that he was on his home turf. Maybe.

Lifting the telescope to his eye again, he could just make out the blotchy spots that were the crew's faces. He squinted as if that would help him to see the symbol printed on the side of the boat. It was colorful, like a flag. … _Was_ it a flag? Maybe a fellow country really was coming for a visit.

_Or a fight._

He kept his eyes trained on the flag image until it solidified into something he could recognize. When it did, he groaned. A quick scan of the blurry faces was all the confirmation he wanted.

Just what he didn't need – a visit from some silver-haired loony. He sighed at the figure displaying confidence and arrogance at the bow on the boat with its arms crossed in a haughty manner.

What was _Prussia_ , out of everyone in the world, doing at the fort?


	11. Invasion of the Prussian Kind

There were not many countries Peter knew, not personally. He made it a point to memorize as many fellow personifications as he could for the day when one of them, any of them, would recognize him as a country. But, no, he didn't know many of them personally. It was easy to learn of the countries comprised of the world powers – his brother was a part of them, after all. It was also easy to learn of any relations they had. Peter had especially endeavored to learn of the countries tied to Germany and Japan, seeing as how those two were the most likely to accept him as a country sooner than the others.

So it was inevitable that he would learn of Germany's elder brother: Prussia.

A former kingdom which was so much like Sealand, yet entirely different. Others recognized the Prussian as a country, yet did not give him the same respect or attention as they did the younger sibling. Probably, it was rumored, a result of having lost his status as a legitimate, standing country. But most thought he gave up attending world meetings as a statement of confidence to Germany who now represented both of them. Either way, Prussia was often seen outside of the conference hall of the meetings, and that is how Sealand first met him.

It was pretty much a meeting full of both sides boasting and scoffing at the other. Apparently, they had more in common than either of them thought.

Afterwards, they met occasionally at the meetings, Prussia claiming boredom or carrying out a scheme of some sort and Sealand trying his best to sneak unobserved into the conference room down the hall. He never made it in (to date) but the Prussian would sometimes distract him from failure by inviting him to do something fun and mischievous – like attempting to prank Russia as he left the meeting room first – which didn't succeed anyway and after a somewhat creepy stare directed at the pair of pranksters from across the building Sealand made sure to stick close to Denmark and the others. He figured at least he was safe with so many countries to defend him. As to Prussia…Sealand didn't know, but he never seemed very concerned about possible retribution.

"Heeey! Anybody hooome!"

Knocked out of his thoughts, Sealand sighed and reluctantly gave the okay for the men working the pulley system to lower the pulleys in order to bring the Prussian and the crew manning the boat aboard the fort. It didn't take long to secure the vessel and soon the personification of Prussia was strutting toward him as if it was he who was at home.

With a Cheshire cat grin, he spoke loudly. "About time you pulled us up, mini _brauen_ , I was about to wonder if you were intimidated by my appearance."

"Don't call me that, Gil! I'm not his mini-nothing!" Geez, he didn't want to be called "minibrows" or anything that reminded him of the Jerk. He was his own person!

Prussia didn't appear fazed in the least in the wake of his mighty anger. "Yeah, okay, don't get your kilts in a wad or whatever you wear over here." Here, meaning Sealand/England territory.

Sealand grabbed his own hair. "We don't wear kilts, we wear normal clothes; same as you! And you wear _a_ kilt – not more than one."

"Well, you would know."

"Ugh!" He noticed some workers observing them but it was only casual curiosity because they went back to work when he looked at them. He turned back to Prussia. "Why are you even doing this? I know bloody well you've been to this side of Europe before."

He gave Prussia a hard, accusatory stare which was met with an innocent, "who, me?" stare. It didn't last long, though, as Prussia felt his ruse slip and grinned.

" _Ja_ , I'm just messing with you." He snickered. "I might as well, since I am already here~! Got to create _mein_ own fun, I guess, since I don't see anything interesting so far up here," he commented, spinning in a slow circle to take in the bare sights of the Sealand fort.

Sealand quelled the immediate reaction to retaliate against any verbal slight to his country. Instead, he focused on something more interesting. "Why _are_ you here, Gilbert?" It was too much of a coincidence, after all, that someone as disarming as Prussia came to see him on the same day he tricked England into getting him a boat to his fort.

"To let you see me, of course!"

"To…? Bull! I know that's not true."

"Whaaaa~? You don't think you, like everyone else, need your daily dose of awesomeness to keep your spirits up?"

"Yeah, I do think that. Did my parents send you?"

"You are a cruel, cruel boy, mini _brauen_ –"

"Don't call me that!"

"– but I forgive you. You just don't realize how ze great Prussia benefits your everyday life. It is okay."

"I don't know what you're talking about! Answer my question!" Sealand wanted to imagine that desperate tone in his voice did not come out. He wanted to pull his hair some more. No wonder mister Germany was so loud and ornery.

"We'll just have to fix that! Look, see this bag? I brought with me pictures (of myself) and posters (of myself) to hang up aaaall around this place."

" _Why_!"

"For atmosphere. Duh." He gestured to the surrounding metal. "It is so dull, it makes me want to lie my head down right here and cry. If I was less awesome, I would." He shook the aforementioned bag. "This is to prevent suicides, see?"

"I'm a good country – we don't _have_ suicides!"

"A little color, a little hero-worship and, BAM! You have motivation." He said "motivation" like it was something glorious which Sealandics had never heard of before.

Sealand felt…defeated, and sighed, wanting to place his head in his hands and just have silence or something. He didn't usually have to deal with such a random and hard-headed Prussia – being that they were usually on the same side – but, damn, when Prussia wanted to screw with your mind, he really could. Is this how he won some of those famous battles? By screwing with people's minds 'till they just…gave up? He could totally relate. Please, just make the crazy albino-person stop talking to him.

He sighed again and lifted his eyes. The image of a serious Prussia met his stare before it was wiped away with a grin so quickly Sealand wasn't sure if it wasn't his mind playing tricks on him.

Prussia tapped his boot against the floor. "Sooo, are you going to show around your honored guest? Or am I going to be left on my own. Because I swear I can honestly go through any rooms and not mess up something. For real."

Ignoring the fact that Prussia sounded a little like Poland or someone there at the end, he caught onto the hidden threat in the words. No way was Sealand letting him wander around in his country alone! Maybe if they were at someone else's place. But Sealand knew Prussia, and the former kingdom would try to set up pranks or get into something to which he wasn't welcome. It was better to keep the nosy vampire where one could see him.

He didn't bother to keep the annoyance out of his voice. "Would you like a tour, mister Beilschmidt?"

"I guess so, since you asked so nicely."

Sealand had the urge to flip him off but resisted and, instead, lead the way into the inner bowels of the fort. He huffed as they descended. Then immediately felt sheepish for doing it. He felt Prussia's gaze on the back of his head and could only guess what he must be thinking. Even Sealand realized he was being unusually short on patience today. Well, it was justified when he was in England. His tension hadn't disappeared completely, though, even after his arrival. Whether Prussia was really here on his own account or not, he was still a pretty good friend to Sealand. Sealand could have a little more patience. For now. And maybe by acting more normally he could catch the former kingdom off-guard and get some actual answers. He smirked, knowing Prussia wouldn't see, and began to put his impish bone to the test.

* * *

 

A few hours later, one grand tour of Sealand, and many concealed threats and veiled accusations later, Sealand was about ready to just. Give. Up. He had spent the better part of the day with Prussia and was no closer to learning anything of importance. Except that Germany's elder brother was a master at deflecting one's questions, no matter how determined that person is to get the answers. Sealand had done his best to act innocent and cheerful to get the former kingdom to let his guard down. He had even (shudder) praised him like some love-struck ninny looking for an autograph. Still didn't work. Not one iota. God! He was so frustrated and fed-up with this crap. He couldn't keep up with all the sudden changes in the conversations they'd had regardless if the changes made sense or not. They could be talking about the comparison of forts and kingdoms then Prussia would change it to a debate between which female countries would look best in a giant bird costume. What? He didn't even know where that one came from. However, it was enough to make Sealand's mind crash from the random topic and forced to imagine a giant miss Hungary in a bird costume holding up his fort with her giant chicken wings and _Godzilla_ teeth. Great. That image will probably pop up in his nightmares tonight or something. Thanks, Gilbert.

It also didn't help his exasperation and growing headache when Gil kept trying to put up those bloody, freakin' posters! Everywhere, too. If Sealand turned to even see where he was going, Prussia would have a poster of himself taped to the wall like it had always been there. They spent many minutes each time Sealand caught him doing it in order to argue about pros and cons of invading someone's home to "liven it up" against their will. Another few similarities between them: they were both equally stubborn, went behind each others backs, and didn't want to listen. At least Sealand had the decency to acknowledge it.

But, seriously, he was a mite pissed off, to put it politely. He tried his best to turn the conversations back toward anything related to the Nordics or himself or Prussia's appearance but it had yet to work. He tried being subtle and he tried being straightforward. Both failed. Now they were in his room, sharing beverages (non alcoholic, to Prussia's dismay) as they lounged in front of the television. It was on some sports channel that showed hockey preliminaries, but hockey wasn't a sport which interested Sealand so he slumped back on his beanbag and blew bored, lethargic bubbles through the straw in his soda. Truthfully, he was rather tired now and could go for a nap. Prussia had personally never been so difficult to deal with since they met. Either that or Sealand was losing stamina. He hoped he wasn't getting old quicker and out of shape.

As Sealand was quietly contemplating all this, he noticed the hockey game wasn't as deafening in volume as it had been. Nor were there any cheering Prussian voices beside him. He glanced in confusion to his company. Prussia was still watching the television but…his mood seemed subdued now; he had his chin in his hand which was propped against his knee in a commonly comfortable position but not a position that one often saw Gilbert Beilschmidt take. His face was borderline detached and it began to freak Sealand out.

"Gil…?" he asked unsurely.

The Prussian glanced at him (a reaction, thank goodness, Sealand was beginning to get some Russia vibes here or something) and turned back to the television. He didn't react when his favored team scored a goal except sigh and stretch his arms and back. Then he looked fully at Sealand.

"Today's been fun, _ja_?"

"Uh…I guess?" Not really, no.

Prussia snickered in a reflection of his normal self. "You _und_ your brow- _Bruder_ have trouble telling ze truth, don't you? You should be thankful ze awesome me arrived when I did."

"Yeah, sure."

Prussia continued as he gazed at the ceiling. "I believe it was that country – Denmark? – who wanted me to haul you off this steel rig whether you wanted it or not."

"What!" Sealand stared at him, horrified and began to panic inwardly, expecting the stronger personification to lunge for him there and now. His paranoia heightened. He started to kick himself frantically away. Before he could, Prussia gave him a bemused smirk.

"Calm down, mini _brauen_. I'm not going to – they couldn't offer me enough beer to satisfy ze work it would take to kidnap your _arsch_." He rested his arms across his knees in an unthreatening gesture.

It took a couple of moments, but Sealand slowly responded to the comfortable position as his shoulders relaxed and he returned to his previous position once it seemed truthful that he really wouldn't be stuffed in some bag or something. He set the glass containing his drink to the side before it spilled.

"Besides, I would probably get lost on my way out, anyway; it's a freakin' maze down here!"

Sealand tried to smile in humor but couldn't. "Denmark asked you to kidnap me?" He felt…betrayed. He wanted time alone and he couldn't even have _that_. His eyes prickled in hurt.

" _Nein_. He didn't. Well, not in so many words. They want you back, obviously. I think you leaving made them a liiittle insane. Kessesse!"

Sealand didn't have the heart to laugh; it didn't seem so funny to him.

Prussia ignored Sealand's unmotivated look and continued with a wave of his hand. "Anyway they really only wanted me to bring back any news I had of you while I was here. Do I tell them this place looks like a big grey life-sucker or has it always been this way?" He grinned in a teasing manner to show he meant no harm.

Jerk. Lucky for him, Sealand didn't care about retaliation right now.

"How did you even find out about me? Did my- the Nordics contact you? That's unusual."

Prussia frowned at his obvious slip but ignored it overall. "I never talk to those guys. Denny's always too much of a cheapskate to bum drinks off of; two broke guys can't drink together or we'd never get drinks in ze first place!"

Sealand couldn't pass that up. "So you admit you're a bum?"

"I said 'broke', mini _brauen_. I'm totally too awesome to be a bum."

"It's the same thing (and don't call me that)."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is!"

"No, it is not!"

"Yes, it…! Whatever! So how did you find out, if not from everyone else?" He asked while throwing his hands in the air as if to rid himself of the previous argument.

"Bigger _brauen_. He had business, Francis called (to harass, of course), he let some of it slip, Francis figured out ze rest, he told me and Antonio, I volunteered because I needed to get out of ze house before West came home because I spent some of his money on something that is awesome and completely un-West-like…. Let's see. Oh, _ja_. I told Francis I would go, he called your _Bruder_ again to gloat about it, your _Bruder_ told your _Mutter_ or your _Vater_ or whoever – I don't even know who's who in that circle of weirdness – and they told your axe maniac friend, who then called me through Francis and told me to report what I see and he'd give me good beer as payment, and not ze cheap kind, either, so here we are! Any questions?"

"…"

"Yeah, I'm used to that awestruck expression. I'll give you a moment to take it all in."

Wow. Just…wow. He hadn't heard someone talk so fast before except maybe North Italy. He hadn't even heard half of what was said; just a big run-on sentence. The only thing his mind latched onto was: who was "Antonio"? He asked the question and was rewarded with a condescending look.

"What, you don't even know? Antonio is Spain, duh. You should at least memorize his name. You know me and France's."

"Yeah, but I've never spoken to him all that much. Any time he's around, he's with you guys or with Belgium or with the Italy's."

Prussia gave him a weird look. "Yeah, he does that."

"Does what?"

"Nothing."

"Does _what_?"

"Hey! So, good news is I'm not going to kidnap you. Yaaay."

"I'm about tired of you changing the subject."

"I'm still going to tell them about how you were, but other than refusing to clean _mein_ boots in gratitude for coming –"

"You only came here to escape from mister Germany and for beer!"

"And those are very good reasons! You don't _know_ West when you don't have to live with him – he's horrible!"

"Oh, boo hoo."

"Devil. I'll tell your pushy folks you're just _fine_ and collect my due. Mean little unibrow monster."

" _What_ is your fixation with our eyebrows!"

"They're unnatural!"

"You're unnatural!"

"I am awesome!"

"You're a pain and I want you to leave!"

"Maybe I'll just stay ze _Nacht_ to _piss_ you off!"

"Screw you!"

"I'd say ze same but you already have too many in this whole damn place!"

"…"

"…"

Sealand burst out in laughter at the same moment Prussia did.

What even started this argument, he couldn't remember. It felt good to have someone to argue with though. He let some of his tension go in that fight and it felt good. Maybe this was why countries always wanted to argue in meetings. It was therapeutic to argue about things that did and didn't make sense, that were important yet didn't mean a thing.

He laughed and laughed on the floor until it was hard to breathe. Then he laughed some more. Prussia laughed, watched Sealand, then continued to laugh at Sealand's laugh. It was a circle that continued until they laughed themselves sore – Sealand more than Prussia.

Eventually, Sealand found the strength to push himself from the floor. He wiped at his eyes and fixed his skewed hat. "Oh. That was…what were we arguing about?"

Prussia stayed on the floor with his hands behind his head. "Does it matter."

"Hm, no." He flopped on the floor beside Prussia and copied his movements. Staring at the ceiling was boring but Sealand didn't mind as he caught his breath. It was almost peaceful. He let his mind wander, content to think about everything and nothing. He opened his mouth to ask something frivolous. "Do you think I could be a Nordic?"

Whoa! Where did that come from? That wasn't frivolous at all!

His heart sped up in mortification and he felt his cheeks redden in embarrassment as he heard the motion of Prussia's head turn towards his.

"…It does not matter to me about titles." Prussia turned back to the ceiling, contemplative. Sealand tried not to let his disappointment show. "But…" Prussia continued, "…maybe that's only because I have no real title to worry about anymore. You know? Titles used to be important, way back when…I would kill a man for another title if it meant expanding… _und_ reputation. Now? Not so much. Let ze others stress over such things." His eyes met Sealand's. "You should be awesome so others can see, but you should be _more_ awesome for _yourself_. Titles – Pah! Ze only thing that matters is you. Get what I'm saying?"

Huh. Sealand studied Prussia in shock. And, he admitted, admiration. That speech was… _cool_. He had never seen Prussia actually be so…dependable. It gave him a new respect for him. He offered a tentative smile.

"G-Got it."

" _Gut_."

And he did get it. A little bit. Maybe…maybe a title just didn't carry as much weight to one person as it did to others. Maybe…. Maybe others never noticed how a title can mean so much to someone but so little to the person sitting right next to them. Maybe words like "country", "world power", and "recognized" didn't mean as much to those countries who had status as they did to the many micronations struggling to get a foothold in the world. Maybe that's why some of them never notice. Never concern themselves with titles that mean nothing to them. Maybe….

He breathed.

Maybe the title of "Nordics" was just that insignificant. Maybe Finland, Sweden, Denmark, Iceland, and Norway cared that little about titles…they never even realized he wanted one, too. Maybe that's why they never bothered with his inclusion. It was like Prussia. Maybe were just some of the ones that didn't care about "titles" or "Nordics". It was just them. Just….

 _Us_.

Just…us?

_Yes, because they were all a family before and after you came. When did that change? When did they stop being 'family'?_

When? When…

When he became obsessed with titles and no one else did. That's when.

His lip trembled, a high keening sound echoing in his ear. He snapped his hands to his face and kept them there. He curled into a tight ball and he felt Prussia move away from him. A hand touched his shoulder in concern but he didn't hear anything more. Hot tears began to form as the keening got louder in frequency.

Had he just ruined everything?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I looked for German insults online but all I found were curse words. Haha! So I had to improvise. Translation websites seem to capitalize certain German words (nouns?). But let me know what should and shouldn't be capitalized, if you will, I like to be thorough and I know you can't really rely on translation websites.


	12. Psyching Up and Moving On

It took a good while for Sealand to calm down after his realization. It still struck a horrifying chord within him. Could _he_ have been the one in the wrong?

 _No, not entirely_ , a defensive, but rational voice inside him claimed. After all, whether he was obsessed with titles or not, the fact was that he was not included with his family when countries mentioned them as a whole. And no one did anything about it! Didn't they notice how much it hurt him to not be included? Or was it because he didn't mention anything sooner? Was it his fault or was it theirs? He was just…so confused. He had spent the past few weeks blaming the Nordics for not caring, not loving him, not paying attention. If it wasn't their fault to begin with, what did he do all of this for? To get recognized?

Yes, in a way, he did. He wanted to be recognized as a member of the Nordic family. But was running away the way to go about it?

But-! But…he was scared that he would be left behind! Rejected and thrown away, like a war fort that was no longer any use now that the war had ended. He had seen many countries who had been abandoned at one point or another; he didn't want to be hurt that badly. He was just looking out for himself – the way a good country should.

Still….

A burst of cold soda over his head shocked him enough that he cried out, squirming from the now wet spot on the floor.

" _Prussia_!"

The one in question lowered the now empty glass with an unsure smirk. "You were acting majorly weird – freaking me out here. Just thought I would help."

"…"

"…Did it help?"

"No! I was fine without you making my floor dirty."

"Psh! Whatever." He sauntered away as if suddenly too good to stand anywhere near Sealand.

Sealand felt his previous irritation with the day's events returning despite the overwhelming thoughts in his head.

"Albino trollop."

Prussia swung around faster than a blink. "Now that was uncalled for! Here I am trying to cheer you up and you are un-awesomely sexually harassing me!"

"Well, if _you_ weren't such a-! Wait...there's an awesome way to sexually harass someone?"

"Oh, _ja_ , if you _like_ it -"

"Okay, okay! Stop! You know how old I am, right? No more of – of that talk!"

Prussia laughed. "You claim you're old enough to be on your own but you haven't even had "Ze Talk", have you? You act so much like your big _Bruder_."

"Shut up!"

They continued to banter like that until both became tired from the late time. Sealand offered Prussia a guest room, since the country decided he might as well stay the night. Nosey vampire. It was both annoying and exciting to have another country (other than himself, of course) visit Sealand. Was this what other countries felt like when they were invaded –err…visited by others?

Sealand sighed in his bed, now left alone in the dark with his thoughts. He placed his hands behind his bed and stared at his ceiling, imagining he was looking at the night sky instead. He loved to camp outside. He loved nature. The Nordics had plenty of nature in their lands…. He sighed again and rolled onto his side. He was so excited to just get away from them all…but now that it happened the reverberating echo of loneliness wouldn't leave his heart. He felt desperately homesick. He didn't recall a time where he came to his fort in anger or fear…it made the experience of returning sour.

He took off his signature cap and held it to his chest, fiddling with the edge of it as he rolled again onto his back. Memories began to assault him slowly, making the homesickness increase. He had memories of the times when he and Denmark would hang out, playing whatever and doing everything. Of how his Mama was always ready with a hug for everything – comfort, sadness, happiness, protection. Memories of how his Papa would always have a protective eye on him even when Sealand was doing nothing but walking down the street. Of how Norway always offered him tea and words of wisdom and advice even when Sealand never understood him. Of how Iceland…well, Sealand didn't know much about Iceland, but they'd never had a fight.

Until _that_ day.

Sealand sighed again at the last memory, wishing he could stop his trips down memory lane. Surely they didn't want to get rid of him if they went through all the trouble of interacting with him…? Now that he had a day away from them to get his thoughts together, he'd started to realize how paranoid he'd been before. Had he really thought they'd just…he didn't know, throw him on the side of the road or something? He didn't think even the most hardened countries would do that to a child. Why the heck did he think the Nordics would? He covered his face in embarrassment. He didn't remember anything he said to them that day before he left – he hoped it didn't involve anything like that.

…And now he was starting to regret his actions? He picked up his cap and squished it against his face. He was all over the place, wasn't he? A day away and he still couldn't sort himself out. He didn't deal well with decisions…he'd always had people to rely on for their opinion and advice! Now most of them were those he ran from….

Wait. Advice?

Raising himself up on his elbow, he dug into his pocket with his other hand, his cap falling behind him. Finding what he wanted, he pulled it out with curiosity. He hadn't tried to actually understand it before because of his emotions at the time. Now was as good a time as any, he supposed. Turning on the lamp next to the stand beside the bed, he unfolded the crinkled note he received after the fight with his family. It was the same text as before.

 _Peter,_ _  
_ _Betre å vite rett enn å håpe feil._ _  
_ _Better know rightly than hope wrongly._ _  
_ __  
Have a good night.

He stared at the crumpled paper. Better know rightly…than hope…wrongly? And he'd gotten it after the fight. It was obviously from Norway now that he thought about it, and Norway didn't waste words in such situations. "Know rightly" and "hope wrongly". Was he implying that Sealand's assessment of the Nordics was wrong? He thought back to the argument. Did he really tell them that he didn't belong with them? Yes, he did; he remembered now. He also told them they only needed themselves and no one else.

Norway. Was he suggesting the Nordics needed him after all? But what for? They were much stronger than he was and could defend themselves and each other better than he. What purpose did he serve in the family? It didn't make sense, but…. According to this, if he was right, then…now that he had run away, would Norway want him back? Would everyone else want him back, too? If they really didn't want to get rid of him, then maybe Denmark's mission for Prussia was out of concern, and not because of some form of possession like Sealand had first believed. After all, Denmark and he had always been buddies – it suddenly made more sense for Denmark to check on Sealand rather than to spy on him. That just didn't fit the Denmark he grew up with.

Sealand rubbed at his eyes when they began to prickle. He missed his family dearly. He missed what he used to have and he wanted it again. He didn't want to be alone in his fort again. Before he began to explore the world outside of the sea, he never had anyone to talk with. Certainly no friends.

He swallowed. He missed his family and friends. It was…becoming clearly possible that they miss him, too. He just hoped that he had interpreted Norway's message right. "Know rightly". He supposed it was time to stop running. The only way to know for sure was to go talk with the Nordics and get some straight answers. Sealand hadn't given them a chance to get their say – he had been too afraid of being rejected. But if there was a chance he was wrong…well, he would gain a family again. And that was what he wanted most of all. Currently he was already alone. By his understanding, he was already experiencing abandonment and doing just fine – nothing else to lose and everything to gain, right? Right.

Sealand snorted in depreciation and rolled on his side again to face the wall. This was the worst it could get, right? Going back and talking to them all now wouldn't be so hard. Yeah. Of course. He could do it. He was strong. The greatest future country in the world.

He tried a smile to see if he could do it. It came out wobbly. See? Just smile and go talk to them. What's the worse they could do to him now? Ha!

* * *

 

Shouldn't have fallen asleep to that last line of thought. Throughout the night, unbidden, imagined scenarios of scary and violent Nordics swarmed into his mind, bearing down on him when he finally faced them again. Waiting for him with weapons – swords, axes, bats. It was horrible. Uhhh…no, none of that was real. He had to stop his paranoia from getting to him or he'd never leave his fort! Remember last night? We're going to smile and march forward. Let's focus on that. Right. Makes sense. Do that, Sealand. Right.

Now that he had mentally psyched himself up for the day (or a few hours, anyway), he stepped out of his room, ready for…anything, he supposed. He looked in the room Prussia stayed in last night only to discover it empty. This normally would have worried him – anyone, really – but the elder country did mention he'd only stay the night.

He reflected on his thoughts on his path to the top hatch that lead to outside. He needed to talk to the Nordics, he knew he should do that much at least. The question was, when? Today? He hunched his shoulders subconsciously at that. No, not today. Too soon. A few days, tomorrow maybe, but definitely not today. Just thinking about it made him start to feel cornered and rushed again, like he felt at Norway's home. He stopped and took a calming breath. He was self-aware of himself enough to feel aggravated at his nervous panicking. So, not today. Maybe in two days? Would two days give him enough time to gather more courage and confidence? Maybe. Probably. Yes, he'd go to them in two days' time.

Feeling a sense of accomplishment, he continued on his way, eventually reaching the topside of Sealand and feeling the fresh air that accompanied a day of rain ahead. Looking to his right, he was only mildly surprised that the former kingdom of Prussia still had not left. Sealand shrugged to himself and made his way over. Prussia was leaning on one of the rails, a bottle of alcohol in hand.

"Where did you get that?" Sealand asked, appalled. Employees were not allowed alcohol on his fort.

Prussia took a swig and smirked. "You really think someone can work _here_ and not need a beer ever now and then? Kessesse! You want your place to be as dull and un-awesome as possible, don't you?"

"No! I just…whatever! Why haven't you left yet?"

"Ah~! It would be rude to leave without giving you a chance to bid me farewell, wouldn't it?"

"Ugh! Do you have to do this all the time?" Sealand asked, not feeling up to banter at the moment.

Prussia smiled and returned his attention to his drink. " _Nein_. 'S'just fun to watch how others react." He faced Sealand again. "But I am about to head off. Got to spread my attention to other countries before everyone gets jealous of you." He winked.

"You just compared yourself to a disease."

Prussia ignored him and leaned in conspiratorially. "Want me to tell you-know-who's anything?"

Sealand stared at him, deciding. "Tell them…tell them whatever you were going to tell them before. And also…that I'm coming back soon, to talk. And I want answers, not more questions." He felt confident telling Prussia this as if he were speaking to the Nordics without having to actually face them. "Um…is that alright?" Okay, so maybe not _entirely_ confident. But, hey, he was getting there!

Prussia shrugged. "Sounds good to me. Hey, listen, I hope you get your business with your folks sorted out. It's, well, kinda' annoying."

"W-What? Annoying! _How_!" The nerve of him! This situation was really eating Sealand up inside and out, and Prussia thinks it's "annoing"?

Prussia rubbed his neck like he was embarrassed. "Well, _ja_ , you see, West doesn't want any insane Nordics to go around on some rampage. You may not know it, but your family can be freakin' crazy, too! West watches out for anyone about to cause any problems for ze others, you know? Just sayin', maybe patching things up on your end will bring them back to normal; since you left, they've _kiiind of_ been making ze others uncomfortable. Which is freaking _hilarious_ to watch, but, eh, like I said before, it's not always fun to live with West, especially when he just gets _so_ tense about things!"

"O-Oh…." Sealand didn't know how to react to the information. Guilt that others were suffering, or happiness that the Nordics weren't "normal" without him (then more guilt for thinking that last thing)? Prussia had informed him before about the change in the Nordics' behavior but it had only been in passing.

Prussia clapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. "So! Good on you for taking one for ze team!"

Sealand balked. "I'm not doing it for you!"

"Everyone does things for me – it's just a thing I have going for me."

Argh! One could only take so much of Prussia's personality before they needed a break. Sealand, like many others, had just reached his quota for Prussian interaction. "Shut up! Get off my country! No Prussians allowed! Leave!"

"Oi! That's racism! You can't do that!"

"I can and I will! Shoo!"

"I'm telling your folks on you, mini _brauen_! Let them cry over how much their mean infant-baby has deteriorated!"

"'Infant' and 'baby' are the same thing!"

"Well-! English is stupid and so are you!"

"Did you not hear me the first time I told you to leave, old man! Guess those grey hairs aren't all for show, huh?"

They continued on for some time even when Prussia's ride back to an English port arrived. Their arguing finally halted only when the captain of the boat threatened to leave Prussia behind after over an hour of waiting for the two personifications to stop on their own. It was only when the boat had faded beyond sight that Sealand realized Prussia had indeed engaged him in banter without Sealand realizing it. He adjusted his cap, bemused.

Two days flew by in the blink of an eye.

* * *

 

Inside Norway's home where they had remained, Finland paced the floor – he'd been doing that a lot lately, come to think of it. His son would arrive today. Supposed to, anyway. Finland had not seen him since that horrible conversation days ago. It had scared him to death when they couldn't find where Sealand had gone or if he was alright and safe. For hours he had dialed every country whose number he had, _multiple_ times. Even Russia (he may have angered the larger nation with his multiple calls, but it was hard to tell when the other adopted such a cheerful voice most of the time – nevertheless, he'd stopped on that end, to be sure). He sighed and looked worriedly to where Sweden stood beside the window. The Swede had been easily annoyed ever since. He hardly spoke now more than he did before, and when he did it was with a growl. Sealand's disappearance had hit Denmark hard as well, and the Dane stayed sensitive in any conversation even if he tried to appear cheerful on the outside. Already he and Sweden had gotten into two fights over lost tempers. And only _one_ of them involved _just_ words. Norway appeared to be the most calm about the situation, though Finland knew he had been trying just as hard to find their youngest member as the rest of them. Iceland…had barricaded himself in his room since then. Norway had only succeeded in getting him to come out for food. Iceland had even kicked out his puffin friend, to the bird's indignation.

They were now all gathered in the living room, awaiting the arrival of the one person consuming their thoughts for days. Denmark was lounging depressed on the couch. Norway had gone to make some tea for them all, dragging Iceland with him. The two were now having a quiet discussion – probably about how Iceland had been since Sealand left. It was understandable. Iceland was young as well; second only to Sealand, he was the one they kept an eye on most. And he worried them just as much when he didn't eat as much as he should. Finland almost felt guilty for being more concerned about Sealand than Iceland, though at least they could _see_ Iceland and _know_ he was alive. In any case, Iceland's big brother would take care of him. There was no reason to worry.

Just as Finland was about to enter the kitchen himself (he could really use that tea now), there was a tentative knock at the door. Startled, Finland turned to Sweden who had his attention elsewhere, studying someone on the porch outside of their eyesight. And they all knew who exactly was outside. Finland inhaled a deep breath as Sweden moved to open the door.

No matter what he looks like, does, or says, stay calm and don't overwhelm him, Finland told himself. He's not very trusting of you right now. Take it slow. You're not mad, just worried, and a little worry never hurt anyone.

He continued this way until Sweden opened the door to reveal their baby boy standing there looking the same as he ever did.

"H-Hello, Papa. I-I'm back."

Finland had never crossed a room so quickly.


	13. Setting It Straight

" _Peter_!"

Sealand had only a moment to greet his papa before he was bowled over by a force of worried Mama. He barely had enough time to register the arms encircling his head, covering his vision, as Finland began to chatter.

"Peter, I've missed you so much – we all have! I was so worried when Emil came downstairs and said you had run away! We had no idea where you _were_ and I tried to call everyone _I_ knew and everyone _they_ knew and the whole time all I could think about was why I didn't realize you were hurting _sooner_ and how horrible of a parent I was not to have seen it!" Finland let go of him enough to look him in the eye and Peter noticed Finland's eyes were bright as he continued his rapid rant. "I'm so sorry, Peter, and I love you so much and I never want you to do something so _stupid_ as to run away again, _do you understand me_!" At the end, he gave Sealand a little shake of the shoulders, lip trembling and eyes angry.

At the scolding tone, Sealand started to get tears of his own, so affected by Finland's concern. "I-I'm sorry, Mama. I just-!" He paused to sniff as his composure started to break. "I-I didn't mean to worry everyone. I just-! I just wanted to be alone for a while. I didn't…!" A sob broke out and he could no longer continue as tears spilled over his eyes. A pair of strong arms brought him to the chest of his father. "I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" His mama's hands started to card through his hair. He hadn't realized his hat had slipped off his head after Finland's tackle. "S-Sorry!"

Finland's voice floated through his ears. "It's alright. You're forgiven. But we need to talk about this. _You_ need to talk to _us_. We would have given you space, you only needed to ask."

At the accusing tone, Sealand sniffed again and moved back from Sweden's chest, wiping his still very wet eyes. "I th-thought you'd give me away if I tried…."

He didn't hear the yells of denial like he expected, as he normally would. He glanced up, growing worried that his previous assumptions were correct. Finland was gazing at him with an unreadable expression.

"We should talk now, Peter."

His papa's hand gently landed on his shoulder and he was steered further into the room and into a chair. Once he sat – he noticed he wasn't placed in the same chair as a few days ago, but rather one where he could see everyone clearly and the exit was just to his left – he was surprised to see Denmark sitting on the couch watching him; the country had been completely silent and still since he arrived. He looked away then steeled himself (This is what you're prepared for, Sealand! Time to act like a country and not like a micronation!) and looked back at him.

"Hey, Mathias," he said in a strong voice, attempting to keep steady after his crying a moment ago. He attempted to ignore the others as they took their seats, distributing tea that probably wouldn't be consumed.

Denmark gave him an un-cheerful smile. "Hey, Sea."

Sealand had almost expected his friend to sneer at him in disgust for being a coward and running away. He felt he'd rather have anger than this…lethargic response. It made him shift in guilt, now uncomfortable despite his uplifting greeting.

"Mathi–"

"Look, Sea," Denmark began. "I'm gonna give it to ya' straight. You messed up; ya' made a mistake; you assumed something wrong and ya' chose to believe that instead of in yer family." He leaned forward and suddenly his eyes were much fiercer. "And that _hurt_ , Sea. That hurt a lot."

Sealand bit his trembling lip to keep it from betraying him. "I-I'm sorry, Mathi–"

"You don't know what it was like – to see yer papa and yer mama work themselves to death lookin' for ya'."

"I-I–"

"Ya' should've at least told us where you were going." Denmark's voice was rising with each second, and it made Sealand shrink back, afraid of him getting any louder.

Finland raised a placating hand. "Mathias, please. Let's give Peter a chance to explain his side of things."

He went unnoticed. Denmark stood swiftly.

"Ya' should've talked to us a _damn_ long time before you had to run away, Peter!"

Peter bit his lip harder and stood quickly, feeling cornered by the towering Dane. "I said I'm sorry, Mathias!"

"Mathias, …please."

"Sorry isn't good enough, Sea! You put us through hell and back!"

Sealand brought his hands up in desperation. "What do you want from me!"

Denmark slammed his hand on the wall. "I want you to trust me!"

Sealand blinked in surprise and lowered his hands. In response, Denmark lowered his as well, continuing, upset.

"We're _buddies_. Best friends. Out of anyone here, ya' should at least trust _me_. I'm always on yer side and I'd _never_ do anything to hurt you!" He flopped back onto the couch. "Ya' should at least trust _me_ …." Denmark tried to continue but couldn't think of anymore words to express himself. Norway, in a rare moment of compassion, placed his hand on the Dane's shoulder in understanding.

Sealand stared at his friend, heartbroken. "I'm sorry, Mathias. I…I didn't think it'd be this hard on anyone except me. I was only thinking of what I was going through. I didn't know it'd be…this hard. I'm sorry."

"…Let's try to calm down. Give Peter a chance to explain himself, Mathias. Alright?" Finland suggested as Denmark rubbed at the bridge of his nose briefly.

"Yeah. Yeah. I get it." He straightened and gave Sealand an apologetic and slightly normal mischievous look. "And enough with the 'sorry's'. Yer makin' me feel worse, here."

"Sorr- er…."

"Heh."

Sweden shifted, drawing attention to him. "Why'd y' run away, Pet'r'?"

"Oh." Sealand settled back as the conversation steered back towards recent events. He cleared his throat, still tight from all the emotions he'd experienced during just the past few minutes. He almost wished he had stayed away if this was already how it started. Oh well, he was here now. Confidence, Sealand. This is why you stayed on your country for a couple more days. He looked at his papa. "I…nobody-!" He sighed and started over, taking a breath and getting his words in order. "No one thinks I'm a Nordic, Papa. And I'm adopted. I…don't feel like anyone sees me as part of the family. I'm never a 'Nordic'. I'm always just 'the son' and that's if they even recognize me. I figured…well…." He began to feel embarrassed, and rubbed the back of his head shyly. Now that he had seen with his own eyes that they at least were worried about him, he began to feel silly at how hasty he was in running away. "I thought that…you all knew this, and if you did nothing about it…maybe you thought the same thing they did – that I'm not a Nordic. And that maybe I'm not a true member of your family, either. And…and then I started imagining things. Like, if you really thought this, it was only a matter of time until you got rid of me…." He fell silent after a moment. "So I ran away to get some space to think. I was scared you'd reject me."

"Peter." Finland lifted Sealand's chin and gave him an admonishing look. "You should know by now we would never do something so cruel to you. You're our precious son. We're lucky to have found such a kind boy. Surely we wouldn't adopt you if we didn't want you?"

"I-I know. It was j-just hard to think otherwise. None of you seemed concerned, like I was, that other countries didn't view me as part of the family."

Iceland snorted from his seat beside Norway. "You act like we're some kind of prestigious club or something."

Denmark chuckled, the first he had in days. "Who'd want _Sve_ as part of their club?"

Norway countered beside him. "Who'd want _you_?"

"You would~!"

Norway tightened Denmark's tie so fast, the Dane was already choking before he even realized it.

"You're wrong, idiot."

Sealand smiled a little at their antics. He turned to Sweden. "You guys really didn't notice?"

Sweden shook his head. "'S not so import'nt t' us. We didn't know it'd aff'ct y' so much. If we did, we would h've done someth'ng about it." He placed a hand on Sealand's head. "S'rry, son."

Sealand looked down, never having heard his _papa_ apologize for something before. "N-No, it's okay, Papa."

Finland patted his right hand. "I'm sorry, too, Peter. I knew something was bothering you before we came here but I didn't think it was something as important as this. I thought you just had a small fight with one of your friends or something. Can you forgive me?"

Sealand was becoming vastly uncomfortable with his parents' apologizing. _He_ was the only one in the wrong – his parents were blameless, he knew that now. He shifted and took his hand back from Finland.

"You guys didn't do anything wrong. I'm the one that's sorry. There's nothing for you to apologize for."

"No, Peter-!"

"No, Mama-!"

"Shut up! Both of you shut up! Sea, what did I tell you about the 'sorry's? I'm gettin' real tired of hearing all of this self-pity going around! Let's just forgive and forget or something, huh?" Denmark took a pointed swig of his tea like it had alcohol in it and slammed it down on the table. "Jeez!"

Norway slapped the back of his head. "Don't destroy my cups." He caught Sealand's eye. "And, Peter, if the 'Nordic' title matters that much to you, we'll do something about it. Together. For the sake of all our sanity, no more running away to solve your problems." The others nodded in avid agreement.

Sealand blushed. "R-Right. I…guess that was rather dumb of me…."

"Yes, very."

"Lukas!" Finland, always one to rush to Sealand's defense. Sealand guessed he just hadn't realized how much his parents stood up for him before. His Mama did more with words while his Papa usually only needed to stand there and look intimidating. He should've appreciated them more before he let his paranoia get the better of him.

He smiled widely. As a country who had caused trouble, he should offer a formal apology, at least.

"Last time, Mathias, I promise." Sealand cleared his throat. "I really am sorry, everyone. I started to get scared at my imagination and it caused a lot of problems for a lot of people. I'm sorry I didn't talk to you. I'm sorry I didn't trust you. I'm _really_ sorry I ran across the continent like I did. I was afraid of being abandoned again…but I guess that's silly if you have a family as great as mine."

Denmark grinned. "Awww! C'mere!" His attempt to crush Sealand in a big hug was thwarted by Sweden's hand pushing Denmark's face with enough force that he flipped over the couch arm. "Ow! Ya' bastard! That hurt!"

Sealand, from his Papa's possessive arms, snorted in laughter. "Walk much?"

Denmark called from his spot on the floor, "We knew you were with yer brother! You're actin' just as sarcastic as he does."

As they began to exchange insults and tease each other, Sealand reflected on the meeting. It hadn't gone as bad as he had thought it would. His family had always supported him, he had just never recognized it because he had never truly needed it before now. They had been worried about him and it showed. He still had misgivings about the future – after all, how do you get officially recognized as part of a group like the Nordics? He was having a hard enough time getting recognized as a country! But…he already hadn't trusted his family before and it hurt them deeply. He couldn't do that to them again. He'd just have to leave it in their hands. And, really, he'd like to say that titles didn't matter to him anymore, but he'd be lying. Just a _little_ , though. He could at least say he wasn't as obsessed with titles as he was before. Still, it was nice to be back and know he was wanted and that this was where he was supposed to belong. He sighed in relief. He knew his parents would still have something to say to him when they were alone together, but he breathed easier knowing that the worse of the misunderstandings were out of the way. It helped that he _kind of_ figured it out before he came here (He was _not_ thanking Prussia!).

He snapped back to the present as Denmark and Finland agreed on a celebratory dinner and ran for the kitchen, Sweden following. Sealand made to follow as well when he noticed Iceland, who had yet to move, stand and head up the stairs instead of following the others. After a moment's hesitation, Sealand glanced towards Norway, who had been tracking his brother's movements with his eyes.

"Um…Lukas?"

Norway turned to him.

"Is there something wrong with Emil? He didn't seem himself, I don't think."

Norway studied him. "My little brother hasn't had much sleep. He could probably use a friend now," he said with a hint in his voice.

Sealand understood the hint well. He just didn't think it was a good idea. "Are you sure? I mean, isn't he closer to you?"

"I don't know where kids get the idea that other people hate them for some reason, but this house could do without the drama."

"Uhhh...what?"

Norway sighed like someone who had told a joke but no one got the punch line. "Just go have a talk. You will both get something out of it, I'm sure." He turned to enter the kitchen.

Sealand turned to follow Iceland but remembered something and called Norway back. "Lukas!"

Norway glanced back.

Sealand held up the piece of paper he'd received days ago and smirked. "Thanks for the wisdom, even if it was hard to understand."

To Sealand's surprise, Norway smirked back. "It wouldn't be wisdom if it was easy." Sealand watched him, mildly stunned, until he entered the kitchen.

Huh. He should really get to know the other members of his family. There might be more to them than he thought.

* * *

 

Following Iceland brought him to the country's room.

Um….

Awkward. He didn't know what to do. He'd never been to Iceland's room before. He felt like he was intruding just standing here outside of it! But Iceland had seemed very…out of character during the conversation downstairs. Sealand had a feeling it might be because of him. There was a chance it wasn't, but if it was, he needed to take responsibility and own up to it! 'Cause that's what real countries did. Yes, right. So just…turn the doorknob or something. No, wait! Knock first. Okay.

He knocked once. It sounded like a mouse knocking.

Hm. Maybe louder. He raised his hand again.

"What."

Sealand jumped at the voice through the door. He didn't think Iceland had heard him knock. Heck, even Sealand hadn't heard himself knock! Did Iceland have super hearing? That was pretty cool-!

Focus, Sealand. You're becoming ADD again.

Swallowing, he turned the doorknob slowly and peeked through the crack. The room was dim, the only light illuminating the room coming from the lamp on the bedside table. He saw Iceland only when he opened the door completely, the bed on the other side of the room. He inspected the second youngest member on the bed. Iceland had appeared to be attempting to read a book before Sealand knocked. Now Sealand felt like he was definitely intruding.

"Um…I would come back later, if you're busy, but Norway said we should talk?"

"Yeah, he would. So damn nosey, that brother."

Sealand shifted his weight, uncomfortable. "Well, he's just worried, I think."

Iceland sighed in irritation. "I never said he wasn't."

"…" Maybe coming here was a bad idea. Iceland always appeared to be in a bad mood around him. Iceland spoke again before he could start edging out of the room.

"Well, are you coming in or are you going to stay in the doorway?"

Truthfully? He'd rather stay in the doorway but Iceland's tone suggested that wasn't really an option. So, he stepped further in and closed the door. Iceland shifted after their moment of staring clueless at one another passed.

"Want to sit down?"

"I'll…I'll stand, I guess…."

"Alright."

"…"

"…"

"Sooo…"

Iceland stayed unhelpfully silent, allowing Sealand to wallow in the awkwardness of having to start a conversation. Sigh. Here goes nothing.

"U-Um. I know we're not that close, Emil." Iceland's eyes narrowed as Peter continued. "But…I want to let you know that I'm sorry for acting spoiled before and for yelling at you that day when we were in the kitchen. You're not a jerk. I was wrong to say that to you."

Iceland let out a sharp sigh as he glanced at the far wall before focusing back on Sealand. "I don't hate you, Peter."

Peter blinked. "Uh…I know. I don't hate you, either." Where was this coming from? He thought Iceland might not care for him exactly but he never suffered under the impression that he was hated, even when he thought his family would leave him.

Iceland appeared confused. "You don't hate me? Then what is with the avoidance? You never look me in the eyes and you always leave the room if it's just us. What am I supposed to think?"

Sealand raised an eyebrow. "But you're the one who never seems happy to see me. I thought you didn't like me – that you wanted me to go away."

Iceland rolled his eyes. "I'm moody and young – I like my privacy. Doesn't mean I want to be alone." He sighed, embarrassed. "I guess what I'm saying is that I kind of like hanging around those weirdos downstairs. They're family and you can't get rid of them so might as well stick around, you know what I mean? You're part of that, too, but I seem to make you uncomfortable…."

Sealand scrambled to explain, awed that he and Iceland were actually having a conversation for perhaps the very first time. "No, no! It's just…well, I screwed up our first meeting because I was overconfident; I figured I'd offended you or something and that was why you didn't like me."

"I _just said_ I didn't _not_ like you!"

"Well that was what I thought, okay! You never talk!"

"And you talk too much! God, you're just like a little Denmark."

"You're being mean again!"

"I'm not mean - you're just too damn sensitive! This is how I am, Peter! Get used to it!"

Sealand paused. "I think that's actually the first time you've called me by my name."

Iceland, thrown by Sealand's change in attitude, relaxed. " _Já_ , besides that time a few days ago, I guess so."

Sealand chuckled after he reviewed their conversation. "Is this how siblings act?"

Iceland's eyes lightened in equal humor. "I wouldn't know exactly. My brother isn't a prime example of sibling rivalry; we get along okay."

Sealand shrugged for lack of something to say. They fell silent momentarily. It was both unusual and nice to have a conversation with each other and not feel horrible about it by the end. Sealand sniffed.

"Anyway, um, if you're feeling bad you should let the others know."

"Like you did?"

Sealand blushed. "T-That wasn't smart of me." He looked down in shame at how he had handled his situation.

Iceland tilted his head. "I was kidding just now. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You've been forgiven many times over."

Sealand gave Iceland a bemused look. During this conversation Sealand had guessed that the island nation had a way of always sounding annoyed with you even when he wasn't. He had always been turned off from approaching the older country due to this misunderstanding. Sealand supposed that if he had gotten to know Iceland a little better they would have been friends long before now. He blinked when Iceland continued.

"And I'm sorry about…before, too. You know, in the kitchen. Sorry for, uh, that."

Sealand snorted at the apology, trying to cover it too late. Iceland sounded so awkward, it was funny.

"S-Sorry, Emil. You just..." He cleared his throat when he noticed Iceland's un-amused look. "Uh, never mind."

"Anyway, I just wasn't sleeping well lately and didn't feel very hungry. I'll feel better after a nap, probably."

Sensing the hint, Sealand shifted and turned towards the door. "Alright. I'm glad we had this talk – it's nice to know neither of us actually hate each other." He grinned in a teasing manner.

Iceland's lips twitched upwards. "Yes, that's always good news."

Sealand waved and began to close the door behind him when a thought occurred to him. He really should leave it alone, but…. He stuck his head through the door into the now dark room (Iceland had just turned off the lamp). "Emil?"

"Hmm?"

Sealand couldn't see anything from his position but he glanced to the side as if avoiding eyesight. "Is it that you couldn't sleep because I ran away?"

Silence descended. Sealand waited, feeling more uncomfortable by the minute. Yeah, he should've kept his mouth shut. He began to close the door.

"It's nice to have you back. Don't do it again."

Sealand, now completely in the hallway, smiled in apology. "Thanks. And I don't plan to."

* * *

 

Later that night Sealand sat in his room in Norway's home, his parents (forcibly) tucking him into bed. Hanatamago, who had been exploring and playing outside all day long, was curled up on Sealand's other pillow, obviously happy to have her little fort safely back home. The family had been having many personal conversations, including reasons why Sealand came across the multiple misunderstandings he did. Accordingly, Sealand had inquired about the night he overheard Finland's aversion to the word 'mama'.

"You know I never meant it like that, Peter! It was just something unusual to get used to. It doesn't mean I don't want to be your 'Mama Tino'!"

"Unusual?" Sealand almost wished he hadn't brought it up even if he wanted to know the answer. His parents had spent the last hour reassuring him over and over again of their affection and support so much that it was starting to get annoying. Sealand owed them his attention at the least. He'd just have to grin and bear the overbearing attention on their side as well. Still, what did his Mama Tino mean about 'unusual'?

Finland glanced to Sweden for help. "Well…it was just a concept I hadn't come across, is all! Aheheh! You were the first child to ever call me ' _Mama_ ', after all."

"Well, yeah. I'm your first kid. Makes sense."

"No, Peter, you don't – never mind. Yes, you're my first kid. Sorry for being confusing. I like that you call me 'Mama'," Finland replied with a smile and a head rub to Sealand. "I wouldn't want to be called anything else!"

Sealand smiled back. He didn't understand the problem, but whatever. His Mama sometimes worried about lots of things he didn't understand. He felt his Papa place a hand to his head as well.

"Now, p'nishment."

"No!"

"No!"

"Papa, please!"

"Berwald, we just got him back today!"

Sweden looked putout that both his family were arguing with him. "Pet'r ran away. He needs a p'nishment." He turned pointedly to Finland. "Yes?"

Finland frowned. "Uh…" He looked from pleading Sealand to stubborn Sweden. "Maybe…tomorrow?"

"Wife."

"Tomorrow, Berwald, please!" Finland hugged Peter, clinging. "Let him sleep without worrying about anything. Please?" He gave the Swede big eyes.

Catching on, Sealand did the same. He hugged back his Mama Finland and turned his big doe eyes to his Papa. "Pleeease, Papa?"

Sweden's eyebrow twitched before the country sighed silently, face unchanging. " _Ja_."

"Yay!" As if they had achieved a big victory, Finland and Sealand gave each other a high-five. Sweden watched, bemused. Hanatamago twitched in her sleep.

Eventually, the time grew too late for the countries to continue their newfound quality time. Finland left first, claiming he could have peace of mind now that their family was whole again. He kissed Sealand on the forehead then shut the door, heading to his room. Sealand felt the bed dip as Sweden now sat right beside him instead of across the bed. He placed his arm across Sealand's shoulders and roughly pulled him to be under his chin.

"Had a talk with Icel'nd?"

"Yeah. I think we got everything straightened out."

"'nd yourself?"

Sealand sighed against his Papa's chest. "I know I'm loved here. And I'm just a part of the Nordics as everyone else."

"Good."

"And your family thinks you're dead when you run away even if you're a steel fort that can weigh a thousand tons and can take care of yourself." He grinned cheekily when his father playfully tightened his arm around Sealand in response to his comment. They sat there a minute more, just spending time in the other's presence.

"Missed y'."

Sealand turned his head so he could speak clearly, soaking in affection that he didn't even know he craved. "I missed you, too, Papa."

The arm tightened. "Love y'."

Peter swallowed hard, touched that he was so loved by his family and never even thought about it before this incident. He was dumb not to have had more faith in them. He couldn't have asked for a better family than what he already had.

"I love you, too." He hugged his Papa Berwald. "And I'm glad I'm back."


	14. Epilogue

It was the weekend of another World Meeting, and the countries had just braked for lunch. Many were stretching their legs in the corridor, looking more lively speaking about gossip and other frivolous subjects than about the important themes in the meeting. Sealand, who had again failed to sneak into the conference hall, (this time, the plan was to stick close to Belgium and maybe his small stature would allow him to go unnoticed or his blonde hair and hers would confuse someone, zebra style. It didn't work, apparently the guards outside of the room were informed beforehand to be on the lookout for him.) was bouncing toward his approaching family, leaving Latvia, who he had been avidly speaking with, to converse with others. Following his return to his family (and his previous punishment from the day at the market as well as the added one from running away without telling them), the only thing he had not been banned from was telephones and cell phones and that was only because his family thought he'd get depressed or something if he was cut off from his friends. They really were being too careful around him – he was fine! Well, _now_ anyway.

Denmark raised a hand in greeting. "Hey, Sea! Didn't make it in this time?"

Sealand pouted and scuffed his foot. "No. They noticed me before I even got passed the doors." Denmark ruffled his hair in apology for his plight.

Iceland stepped up beside him and tapped his shoulder to get his attention. "I'll tell you later. There really isn't much to it so far."

Sealand beamed at him. "Thanks, Ice! At least someone is willing to help out a fellow country!" Over the past weeks, he and Iceland had become closer than ever. They had gotten along great so far, with minor fights, and his friendship with the young country was starting to rival that of his and Denmark's.

Denmark frowned as Finland started to lead the group toward the cafeteria. "Aren't the meetings confidential?"

Iceland shrugged, unconcerned. "Only to countries and leaders…"

"…and I'm a country!" Sealand finished, arms raised with a smile.

Finland smiled at their friendship as they passed a group of countries coming back from the cafeteria. England was among them and his eyes raked over Sealand's form twice before moving on. Sealand stopped and gave his brother's back a confused look. What was with the inspection? He glanced at the others. No one had seemed to have paid attention, except for Norway, who was now studying Sealand as well.

"…What?"

Norway shook his head and began walking again, Sealand matching his steps. "You look much healthier than you did the last time he saw you."

"Oh, is _that_ what that was about?"

"Mhm. Emotions affect the physical appearance. Your happiness reflects on you."

Sealand puffed out his cheeks for lack of a response. "I guess I am happy. Do I really look that different? Or, did I really look that bad?"

"Yes, very much so."

"Huh." He looked toward the others starting down the stairs. "Then I guess I have you all to thank for that." He smiled up at the older country.

Norway tilted his head in appreciation.

After a moment of gazing at him, Sealand asked, "Nor, why are you so wise?"

Norway huffed in annoyance not directed at the fort. "Because I have to deal with _him_." He pointed toward Denmark who had just jumped over the stair's safety rail in an experiment to reach the next floor faster. The multiple sounds of agony and curses indicated not only had he injured himself, but America, Switzerland, and China as well. "If I look at what he does, all I have to do is the opposite."

Sealand laughed as the other Nordics disappeared from view to hurriedly help those who had been in the collision. "Hahaha! I guess it's actually really easy to be wise. Maybe I can be, too!" He chuckled more though Norway merely hummed.

They reached the bottom, finding the situation resolving itself as China was ranting as he stalked away, Switzerland was nowhere to be found, and Finland was promising to buy a depressed America a replacement for his now-squashed burger (courtesy of Denmark's ass). America looked at them as they approached and grinned and waved.

"'Sup?"

Sealand nodded in greeting the way he'd seen young teenagers do when they wanted to be cool. "'Sup?"

Iceland held a hand up. "I'm leaving if you two are going to start using slang." Though seeing the cafeteria through a set of doors, he left anyway, following an annoyed Norway and a limping Denmark. America and Sealand then followed Finland and Sweden through the doors as well.

America nudged him as they walked. "So, how's the recognition going, young land of sea? (Heh. That's, like, a paradox or something. I'm so hilarious~!)"

Sealand sighed, not even questioning America's tendency to pick apart names for fun. "It's…going. It's tough, but I'm trying harder than ever to get recognized." He puffed up in enthusiasm. "Everyone will see me as a country, I just know it!"

America gave a tilted smile and scratched the back of his head. "Well, that's good and all, dude, but I meant recognition as a _Nordic_."

Sealand blinked and stared at him. "How did you know about that? Did the Jerk tell you or something?"

America laced his hands casually behind his head as they got in line to order food behind Finland. "Naw, not really. Your folks mentioned it a while back, and they've been spreading the word around since. Today, too." He whistled. "Don't think there's a country here or otherwise who doesn't know you're now 'a Nordic'." He laughed at a sudden memory. "'Ol Denny nearly attacked that dude, Austria, when he tried to get technical about it – guy just wanted to get the facts straight, you know? Of course, I was all ready to jump in and be the hero everyone expects me to be if things got worse. That's just how prepared I am." He grinned to himself as they moved up the line.

Sealand became lost in thought. His family had gone around, telling them he was a Nordic? He hadn't…he hadn't known at all. He looked for one of the others and saw Iceland, Norway, and Denmark already sitting at a table. Sealand knew they'd try to correct everyone but…he hadn't actually thought they'd try this hard. For him. Lately, he'd been more and more surprised about how wonderful his family truly was and he appreciated them just about every day. It meant so much to him that they had already taken his feelings in consideration.

So he was now 'a Nordic', huh? Official and everything? And every country here now knew it, too. He blushed, smiling as he bit his lip to avoid grinning like an idiot. He looked at America in answer to his question.

"I've got the best family ever. I'm a Nordic no matter what anyone else thinks." He briefly left America in line to run ahead, latching onto his papa's hand. The Swede didn't ask about the sudden display of affection and allowed Sealand to swing their hands back and forth as they walked towards the Nordics' table.

_And I couldn't be happier._

**_End._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Copied in full, as posted first on FanFiction)


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